


What You Fear to Lose

by FlyingMachine



Category: Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Empire doing Empire things, Environmental Destruction, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Light Romance, Mantis Crew, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingMachine/pseuds/FlyingMachine
Summary: The Mantis crew takes a smuggling job that puts them in danger on an Imperial world. When Cal is captured, his crew must find him and escape the Empire.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Merrin
Comments: 28
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

Nar Shaddaa felt dangerous; the entire planet bristled with implied threat. Its people kept their heads down and wore their weapons openly. The air was hazy and stank of pollution, spent fuel, and garbage.

Outside the _Mantis_ , Cal Kestis checked his blaster, slung low on his thigh where he could easily reach it. His fingers brushed the empty space on his hip where his lightsaber should have been. It was locked safely in his quarters at the bottom of a spare parts bin. Cal felt antsy without it. He was an awful shot and the blaster was one of Cere’s spares, worn more for looks than actual protection. No one on Nar Shaddaa carried a lightsaber unless they wanted a lot of dangerous attention. 

The crew of the _Mantis_ did not want any attention. 

Cal waited for his crew on the landing pad, shifting restlessly from side to side. The pad’s permacrete was deeply stained with carbon and leaked fuel and felt greasy under his boots. Greez rushed out of the _Mantis_ , hurrying past Cal to look at his ship. He made a face at the state of the landing pad.

“Look at this,” he said, throwing up all four arms. “This moon is disgusting, and it’s getting all over the _Mantis_.” 

“We won’t be here long,” Cal said to Greez. “Are you coming with us?” Greez gave him an incredulous look.

“Not in a million years, buddy. I’m not leaving the _Mantis_.”

“It’s a secure landing pad,” Cal said. “They’ve got cameras everywhere, and security droids.” Greez crossed his arms and shook his head.

“I also don’t want to get blasted in some back alley because I looked at someone the wrong way.”

“It’s probably good that someone stays with the ship, in case we need to make a quick escape,” Cal said. 

Cere and Merrin met them outside the _Mantis_. Cal barely recognized them. Cere had traded her usual tunic and vest for a tight jacket with a high collar. Cal noticed the lightweight plates of body armor concealed in the jacket’s crisp lines. She wore two blasters in thigh holsters, and the grip of a vibroblade stuck out from the top of one boot. 

Merrin wore a leather jacket over a dark tunic instead of her Nightsister’s robes. A deep green scarf covered her shoulders and the lower half of her face, her amber-brown eyes bright above the fabric. She had no visible weapons, but Cal knew she did not need any. Like Cere, she carried herself with a confidence that lent her an air of implied danger. 

Cal himself wore plain black mechanic’s pants and a gray shirt, long-sleeved to hide his tattoo. It would easily identify him to anyone who knew what they were looking at, and Cal did not want to take that risk. He felt strange without his usual rigger’s clothes, but on Nar Shaddaa it was best to look forgettable. His hair was enough to make him stand out. 

“You look like smugglers,” Greez said when he saw them.

“We are picking up a load of legal water filters for a legal buyer on Lothal,” Cere said. 

“Whatever it takes to make a living in these trying times, right?” Cal asked.

“Our contact said to meet them at the Ghost Nebula bar down in the Corellian sector,” Cere said. 

“Is this very legal business always conducted in smuggler’s bars at night?” Merrin asked. 

“This kind of business is definitely done in smuggler’s bars at night,” Cal said. 

BD-1 beeped on his shoulder in agreement. Cal was so used to the droid’s presence that he had almost forgotten the last thing he needed to do. Looking forgettable required leaving BD-1 behind. He took BD-1 from his shoulder and gently placed him on Greez’s. The droid cocked his head and made a questioning beep.

“Not this time, buddy. Keep Greez company.” BD-1 made a pleading noise. Cal shook his head. “We need to keep a low profile here. Cere and Merrin are with me. I’ll be back soon.” He didn’t like leaving BD-1 behind anymore than BD-1 did. He already felt uncomfortable without his lightsaber and his droid. 

“You can help me run some updates on the _Mantis’_ systems,” Greez said to BD-1. BD-1 made a low blatt of disappointed resignation.

Cere pulled up a map on her datapad, double-checked their route, then tucked it back into the bag slung over her shoulder.

“This way,” she said. “Greez, we’ll be in touch.”

The Ghost Nebula was a low, two-story building made of flaking permacrete and eye-searing neon lighting. It was already crowded, and loud music assaulted them when they entered. Cal instantly wanted to leave, but he forced himself to stay close to Cere and Merrin and keep up his guard. He was acutely aware of the absence of his lightsaber and the fact that he could not use the Force should the need arise. 

Merrin walked close to his side, her eyes sweeping the room, taking in everything. He felt her apprehension, and saw it in the tense lines of her shoulders. He wondered what it must be like to be in such a place after years of living in isolation. He reached down and gave her hand a quick squeeze of reassurance. He felt her relax a little, and her fingers tightened around his. Her touch sent a spark of electricity up his arm that Cal tried to ignore. He needed to focus on their surroundings, not how nice it was to hold Merrin’s hand.

Cal and Merrin followed Cere to a low booth in one of the bar’s very back rooms. The air was hazy with fragrant smoke, and Cal wondered if they would all get spice-buzzed just from being in here. Cere slid into a booth and Cal and Merrin took the opposite seat. 

A serving droid appeared at their table.

“May I bring you something to drink?” it asked in a melodic tone that Cal had not expected. They put in their drink orders and soon Cal had a glass of amber liquid that burned with every sip. It wasn’t the worst thing Cal had ever drunk, but it left a lot to be desired. Merrin tried hers and considered it thoughtfully.

“What do you think?” Cere asked.

“It’s not bad,” Merrin said, taking another drink. “I do not have much experience with other planets’ liquor.” 

“I don’t really think this qualifies as liquor,” Cere said, frowning into her glass.

“It would probably do a pretty good job degreasing engines, though,” Cal said. 

Merrin looked around the room. “Who are we meeting?” she asked.

“Our contact goes by the name Courier,” Cere said, leaning back in her booth. “They said they will make themselves known to us. In the meantime, I’ve got our tab.” 

Cal was on his second glass of questionable whiskey when a slim figure slid into the booth next to Cere. She was a Twi’lek with lavender skin and heavily tattooed lekku, wearing baggy gray coveralls. She carried no obvious weapons, and her long fingers were deeply stained with black grease. She could have been a mechanic on any world in the galaxy, though Cal suspected she was not.  


“Good evening,” she said, her voice deep and smooth. Her gaze lingered on each of them. She had large eyes so dark that Cal couldn’t tell what color they were. Cal got the distinct impression that she was inspecting them the way she might inspect a load of smuggled cargo. Under the table, he rested his fingers on the grip of his blaster, his thumb on the safety. He reached out with the Force and tried to get a sense of her intentions. He was not particularly skilled at this kind of task, but while he sensed caution from the Courier, he felt no outright intention to harm.

“Would you like something to drink?” Cere asked. The Courier flagged down the serving droid.

“A round for the table,” she said. 

The drinks arrived, and the Courier finished hers in two swallows. “Now, to business,” she said. “I have a load of water purifiers purchased by a private buyer on Lothal. You are able to transport them?”

“Terms first,” Cere said. The Courier raised one manicured brow. She placed a small holochip on the table and toggled it on. Cal read the amount and nearly choked on his whiskey. It was enough to keep them comfortable for several months, and complete some upgrades to the _Mantis_.

“We will pay seventy five percent up front and the remainder upon confirmation of delivery,” the Courier said. Cere read the terms and held out her hand.

“Agreed.” The Courier clasped her hand and shook it.

“Very good. My partner will meet you at your ship with the cargo tomorrow morning,” the Courier said. Cere tapped their dock information into the chip.

“We’ll be waiting for you.”

The Courier kept her distance as she followed the smugglers through the Corellian sector's maze of streets. They were armed to the teeth, and she did not want to catch their attention. Their ship was parked at one of the public pads. It was not difficult to follow them there: the tall, red-haired one stood out in the crowd. 

Rumor had it that he was a Jedi. Now that she had seen him, she was certain he was the right person. She knew the bounty on Jedi-- it was an almost unbelievable sum. It would be enough to fund her cause for years. She ducked into an alley and keyed her commlink.

“The Jedi is here. He is going to Lothal, with his crew,” she said over the encrypted channel. The channel crackled with static.

“Acknowledged,” came the reply. 

Cal was relieved when they arrived back at the _Mantis_. Nar Shaddaa’s streets felt even more unsafe at night, and more than once he had slapped away a shadowy hand reaching for his pocket. 

“Greez, we’re back,” Cere called over the comm. The _Mantis’_ ramp opened and Greez stood inside, BD-1 on his shoulder. Cal noticed Greez held a blaster, and it was the first time he had ever seen Greez with a gun. 

Cal didn’t feel truly safe until Greez closed the ramp behind them, sealing them inside. 

“Do we have a deal?” Greez asked. Cere nodded.

“We’ll load up tomorrow,” she said. 

“And what are we hauling?”

“Water purifiers, to Lothal,” Cere said. Greez punched this into the navicomputer and the holotable projected an image of Lothal. BD-1 jumped from his shoulder and landed on the holotable by Cal’s hand, his head cocked at the map.

“Hmm,” Greez said. “Looks like the Empire’s pretty well established there.” He tapped the screen, flicking through data. “Mining, industrial yards, plenty of security. I don’t like it.” Cal felt a prickle of anxiety between his shoulder blades as he read the data screen. Lothal was an Imperial world, and their crew was now known to the Empire. 

“I don’t like it either,” he said, and Cere and Merrin looked at him.

“I thought you might say that,” Cere said. “There’s something else here that might interest you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“A Jedi temple,” Cere said. Cal hadn’t realized that any of the old temples or other places of knowledge had survived the Empire’s destruction.

“Do you think it might have anything left from the old order?” Cal asked. The prospect of rescuing some knowledge that hadn’t been destroyed in the purge intrigued him. Cere shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe there’s something in there that survived the purge. We can get to it before the Empire does.”

“We should have some time to look around,” Cere said.

“Why does Lothal need water filters?” Merrin asked as she studied the map. “Does the Empire not provide for its citizens? That is what their broadcasts say.” Her voice was heavy with skepticism.

“We just deliver the stuff, we don’t ask questions,” Greez said. “Asking questions is where people get into trouble.”

Across the table, Merrin caught Cal’s gaze. 

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” Cal said. “Wouldn’t be the first time we found out the Empire wasn’t telling the whole truth.”

Later, as Cal undressed for bed, Merrin’s question turned over in his mind. He tried not to question the provenance of the goods in the _Mantis’_ hold. He had made an uneasy peace long ago on Bracca with the fact that he often had to do things to survive that contributed to the system he despised. But why would a private buyer on an Imperial planet need a load of water purification systems? 

He thought about Zeffo, where the Empire’s mining for resources had destabilized huge regions of the planet and displaced its people. Maybe something similar had happened on Lothal. 

Cal got into bed and curled up on his side, too tired to follow that train of thought. He killed the light and pulled his blanket over his head. BD-1 beeped at him from the workbench, and Cal mumbled a goodnight. 

He dreamed of Zeffo’s clear blue ice, cracked and broken under the Empire’s machines.


	2. Chapter 2

From space, Lothal was a blue and golden world. Cal looked down at his scanner, relieved to see nothing but civilian traffic around the planet. 

“I’m not picking up any Imperial ships,” he said to Greez. 

“Maybe we’ll have an easy day,” Greez said. 

“Capital City says we’re clear to land,” Cere said. “They’ve got us in bay A-12 North. I’m sending you the coordinates.”

Greez landed them on their assigned public pad. Compared to the grime and pollution of Nar Shaddaa, Capital City seemed clean and bright, if a bit run-down. Massive permacrete buildings dominated the skyline, most in the same hulking, featureless Imperial style.

“What time are we unloading our cargo?” Greez asked Cere.

“My contact will meet us at 1630, local time,” Cere said. She glanced at her chrono. “We have a couple hours still.”

Greez unbuckled his harness and got out of his chair, stretching all four arms over his head. 

“While we’re here, we should resupply the _Mantis_. We’re running low on some stuff. I’ll see if I can get a shipment delivered. We need fuel, too.”

Cere nodded. “That’s good.” 

“And Cal, I’ll need you to help me check on the _Mantis’_ fuel compressor. It’s been making a weird noise lately,” Greez continued.

“Sure,” Cal agreed. He hadn’t noticed a noise, but Greez knew the _Mantis_ better than he did. He unbuckled his own harness and got out of his chair. He put his hand down on the console so that BD-1 could climb up his arm and perch on his shoulder.

Merrin was sitting in the lounge, reading on a datapad. She looked up when he walked in.

“Greez needs some help working on the ship,” Cal said. “Want to come?” Merrin laid her datapad aside. Cal wondered what she was reading. 

“Of course. Greez is determined to make us both his personal mechanics.” 

“He’s just glad he has someone to reach up high for him,” Cal said. “Reading anything good?” Merrin looked momentarily surprised.

“Lothal has an interesting history,” she said. “The economy collapsed several years ago. After that the governor opened the planet to the Empire.”

“Let me guess, they promised stability and economic recovery?” Cal asked. Everywhere the Empire went, the same pattern unfolded. 

“Yes. They built a weapons plant and shipyard,” Merrin said. “They also installed an Imperial government.”

“There’s always a catch,” Cal said. BD-1 chirped in agreement.

“Lothal’s people belong to the Empire now,” Cere said, startling him. He hadn’t realized she was standing in the doorway, listening. “We need to be careful.”

Greez opened the _Mantis_ , and Lothal’s air flowed in. It smelled strange, with a noticeable chemical reek. Greez made a face.

“I’m not sure we should be breathing this,” he said. Cal walked down the ramp and looked around, Merrin and Cere behind him. The bad air was even more noticeable out in the open. 

Cal looked up at the sun and saw the faint haze of pollution in the sky. He remembered the same thing from Bracca, where every kind of refuse had been dumped into open pits or the Ibdis Maw, with little concern for where it ended its journey. In the distance, a low, dark building dominated the skyline. Smoke drifted from smokestacks.

Something about Lothal reminded him of how he had felt exploring the tombs on Zeffo, a sick knot in the pit of his stomach. The scuff of boots on the permacrete pulled him from his thoughts. Cere stood beside him.

“Something’s wrong here,” he said to her quietly.

“I know,” she replied. “I feel it too.”

“It’s the Empire. Whatever they’re doing here is poisoning this place,” Cal said. BD-1 made a sad sounding _bwoop_. Cere looked thoughtful.

“Maybe. We won’t be here long. We’ll unload our cargo and resupply, explore the Jedi temple, then we’ll go,” Cere said.

“What’s so special about this temple?” Cal asked. Cere raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s one of the few places left not desecrated by the Purge,” she said. “Supposedly Jedi who enter it must pass a test of their skills.”

“Have you ever been inside?” Cal asked. She shook her head.

“No. I only read about it while I was traveling with Master Cordova. I’m not even sure where it is. All of those records were lost. You should ask BD-1 if he has anything in his databanks about the temple,” Cere said. BD-1 beeped with excitement. 

“Hey Cal, sorry to interrupt your Jedi business or whatever, but we gotta get this work done,” Greez shouted at him from the _Mantis_. He looked over to see Greez and Merrin waiting by the ship. 

“Go on,” Cere said. “I need to make sure our cargo made it here in one piece.”

Cal met Greez and Merrin by the ship. Merrin had changed into gray mechanic’s coveralls and work boots. She had tied her hair back into a long braid as thick as Cal’s wrist. A few silver strands had slipped free of the braid, falling across her forehead. She held a large toolkit in one hand. 

Cal looked up at the ship. He knew he was likely going to be the one squeezing himself into the access hatch for the fuel compressor. Greez handed him the diagnostic unit and the spanner to open the hatch.

“Okay kid, climb in there,” Greez said. “Let’s see what’s making her clank.”

The Courier slipped into a crowd on one of Capital City’s side streets that overlooked the public landing pads. Like many people on Lothal, she wore a scarf over her head and wrapped around her face. It helped filter the pollution but also hid her identity.

The _Mantis_ was easy to spot with its distinct rotating wing. Its hull shone in the late-day sunlight. She watched as the Jedi and his crew worked on the ship, handing each other tools. They looked friendly and at ease, laughing amongst themselves and handing around a canteen of water. The Courier keyed her encrypted comm.

“They’re here,” she said. “Public landing bay A-12 North.” 

“Place the tracking device on their ship,” the flat, computer-scrambled voice replied. “We’ll know if they go anywhere on the planet.”

The Courier touched the square lump in her thigh pocket. The tracking beacon was surprisingly heavy for such a small piece of equipment. She would wait until it was dark, then attach it to the _Mantis_.

“Acknowledged,” she said.

A flatbed anti-grav hauler pulled up alongside the _Mantis_ and beeped its horn. On top of the ship, Cal eased himself out of the access hatch for the fuel compressor and swiped the sleeve of his jacket across his sweaty forehead. He looked down at the permacrete. The Twi’lek Courier got out of the hauler’s cab and shook hands with Cere. The uneasy feeling crept over Cal again and he slid down the _Mantis’_ hull to land on the tarmac.

Greez was already opening the _Mantis’_ small cargo bay. It was stacked full of crates of water purifiers. Cal had helped him modify the ship shortly after their adventure with the holocron, to give them some flexibility in what the _Mantis_ could carry.

“You’re just in time to help us unload,” Cere said to him.

“Just show me where you want ‘em,” Cal said.

As he and Cere loaded the crates onto the hauler, Cal once again reached out with the Force to try and determine the Courier’s motives. He sensed the usual surface emotions, and a general sense of guardedness, but also something else that he had trouble naming. It was not outright deception, but something related, and a strong sense of personal motivation. It unsettled him.

Cal stacked the last load of water purifiers onto the anti-grav hauler and wiped his hands on the thighs of his pants. The Courier regarded him with cool dark eyes. She held out a datachip to Cere.

“The balance of your payment,” the Courier said. Cere acknowledged the amount and the Courier slipped the datachip back into her pocket.

“The people of Lothal will make good use of these,” the Courier said. 

“Why does Lothal need water filters?” Cal asked. Cere shot him a look, which he ignored. “Does the Empire not provide clean water to its citizens?” He watched the Courier carefully. Her dark eyes narrowed at the corners, but her face gave nothing away.

“That’s a dangerous question to ask here,” she said. “Especially for a smuggler.” Her voice held a hint of warning, and Cal saw her fingers drift toward the blaster holstered on her thigh. Cal felt Cere take a step closer to him.

“Pardon my associate,” she said. “He speaks without thinking.” 

“That much is clear,” said the Courier. She looked at Cal, her eyes fierce. “If you have the time, take a walk around the city. Look at the river. Smell the air. Then you will know how the Empire treats its citizens.”

She climbed onto the hauler and started its engine. It lurched away in a cloud of exhaust. Cal exchanged a glance with Cere.

“That was weird,” he said.

“I know,” she replied. “It’s not our business to get involved in other planets’ politics,” she said. “Besides, we know what the Empire is doing. We see it everywhere we go.”

Cal scrubbed a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I just wish there was more I could do sometimes. The Empire seems… inescapable.” Cere turned and put her hand on his shoulder.

“That’s part of their goal,” she said. “Today we got people clean water, and helped Greez fix his ship. Don’t lose sight of what you have done.” She walked back to the ship, leaving him alone.

Cal looked out across the tarmac at the huge industrial complex in the distance. Farther away, he saw low mountain ranges on the horizon, which he guessed were the focus of the Empire’s mining operations. 

The late-afternoon heat made the air feel heavy and harder to breathe. He had a dull headache, and wondered if it was from the fumes. It reminded him of how he had felt when he had briefly worked in the chemical pits on Bracca, before he had become a rigger. Workers in the pits had short careers, and Cal remembered how badly his eyes and throat had burned after only a few days on the job. He still had a scar on the back of his left hand where a glob of waste had eaten straight through his glove and into his skin, leaving an angry, blistered burn. He was grateful that he hadn’t stayed there long.

Another hauler pulled up to the _Mantis_ , and its human driver held out a datapad to Cal.

“I’ve got a delivery for a… Greez Dritus?” he said, stumbling over Greez’s name. 

“Hey Greez, your stuff’s here,” Cal called over his shoulder into the ship. Greez hurried down the ramp, rubbing his hands together. 

“This is our dinner, kid,” Greez said. Cal realized he was starving after working most of the afternoon. 

“I’ll help you load up.”

After dinner, Cal plugged BD-1 into the _Mantis’_ holotable. He slumped down onto the sofa with his datapad, stretching out his legs. Working in the tight confines of the _Mantis’_ electronics bay and then moving two loads of cargo had left him tired and sore. 

“BD, can you search for anything about a Jedi temple on Lothal?” he asked. BD-1 beeped agreeably, and long chains of data glowed above the holotable. Cere scanned over the data.

“You might be here a while,” she said. 

“Do you remember anything else about the temple? Maybe BD-1 can use that in his search,” Cal asked her.

“Cordova said that it’s hidden, somehow. That’s all I remember.”

BD-1 added Cere’s words to his search string.

“Well, if there’s anything left in the databanks, BD will find it,” Cal said. The amount of data looked overwhelming as it flowed across the monitor.

“I don’t doubt that,” Cere replied. “I’ll leave you to it.” The door to her quarters closed behind her, leaving Cal and BD-1 alone.

Cal wondered what Imperial records about Lothal, if any, were available on the public holonet. He unlocked his datapad and started his own search. He was surprised to find a fairly extensive database of mining claims and old land surveys with detailed maps.

He was deep into geological mapping data when Merrin sat down next to him on the couch. Her thigh brushed his, and Cal’s focus was immediately pulled from his reading.

“Are you having any luck with your research?” Merrin asked, looking at his datapad. Cal sat it down and rubbed at his gritty eyes.

“Master Cordova left some notes in BD’s memory bank, but they’re not very detailed. I found a couple of sites that might match up. There’s just really not that much to go on.” 

“How will you know if you find the temple?” Merrin asked. Cal picked up his datapad and scrolled through one of the files BD-1 had sent him. The file was in bad shape, and looked like it had been transferred from an old and damaged datatape. Some of the text was missing, and the information was brief. Even so, it described a site that matched enough of the characteristics Cere had given him that Cal thought they might have found the temple. A little thrill of excitement ran through him.

Cal handed Merrin his datapad. “Look at this. It’s vague, but I think this might be it. Supposedly it’s built on top of some kind of anomaly in the Force. If we get close, I should be able to feel it.”

“What do you plan to do if you do find it?” Merrin asked.

“BD and I will go in and map it, see if there’s anything interesting inside,” he said. “A lot of the Jedi research and knowledge was destroyed in the purge. Maybe there’s something left there.”

Merrin frowned at the blurred and broken text on her screen. “This document says that two Jedi are required to open the temple. You do not have two Jedi.” Cal felt his heart sink. He rested his elbows on his knees and ran his thumb over his bottom lip, thinking. 

“I’ll see if Cere will help me.” He hoped she would agree. They had no other options. Merrin raised an eyebrow.

“Even though she has renounced the ways of the Jedi?”

“Sometimes she makes exceptions,” Cal said, remembering how she had fought with him on Nur. 

“I see,” Merrin said. “You are not worried that the Empire may follow us there, as they have before?” 

Cal reached down and took Merrin’s hand. She laced their fingers, a small smile at the corner of her mouth. She sat close enough that he could have leaned in and kissed her. He immediately pushed away that thought.

“We’ll be careful. Cere masked the _Mantis’_ energy signatures, and I’ll have you and Greez and BD-1 with me, too. We’ll be fine.” 

Merrin nodded. “Yes, I do not doubt us.” 

That made Cal smile. He didn’t doubt their crew either. Merrin squeezed his hand, then let it go. Cal’s heart sank a little at the loss of contact. She stood and handed him his datapad. 

“It is late,” she said. Cal noticed the time, and realized that he had been sitting for hours. Cere and Greez had disappeared into their respective quarters.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Get some rest.”

She lingered for a moment, as though she had something else to say. Cal wished he had the courage to stand up and kiss her goodnight, but uncertainty held him still.

“Goodnight, Cal,” she said finally, before walking to her quarters and sealing the door. Cal watched her go, still feeling the shape of her hand in his. BD-1 beeped knowingly at him and Cal felt his cheeks heat. He ran his hand through his hair.

“I know, buddy. I just… don’t know how,” he said. He felt ridiculous talking to his droid about his feelings for Merrin. BD-1 beeped flatly.

“I am not scared,” Cal said. BD-1 repeated himself. Cal sighed. He had always been honest with Merrin, and he wanted to tell her how he felt about her. Somehow trusting Merrin with his feelings seemed more terrifying than climbing scrapped ships on Bracca, or exploring deep underground. It was something entirely new, and Cal wanted to get it right.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same way.” BD-1 replied with an insistent series of beeps and whistles. “Or maybe she doesn’t, and saying anything would make her uncomfortable. Then we’ll be stuck on this ship together. It would be awkward.” BD-1 somehow managed to convey a very human eye-roll. 

“Fine, you tell her then,” Cal said. “She already loves you anyway.” As far as he knew, Merrin’s binary was still extremely limited. BD-1 beeped happily. 

Cal synched his datapad to the computer, downloading BD-1’s data. He flagged a couple of points on the map, then switched off the datapad. He picked up BD-1 and put him on his shoulders on his way to his quarters.

“Come on, I think tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Can you put her down here?” Cal asked Greez, touching the map on the navigational screen. Greez ran the _Mantis’_ scanners over the surface. 

“Yeah, seems like good bedrock there, and the ground’s frozen solid. It should hold her.”

“Did you and BD-1 find anything last night?” Cere asked. BD-1 beeped proudly.

“Yeah. We found a few places to try. This seems like the best one, based on some of the old records we found.”

“You’ll know soon enough,” Cere said. “If there is a disturbance in the Force here, you’ll feel it.”

Greez landed the _Mantis_ so smoothly that Cal barely felt the bump. Cal opened the hatch and walked down the ramp. He braced himself for the stink of polluted air. Instead, the breeze was fresh and freezing cold, and the sky clear. They were far enough from the city that the pollution was less noticeable.  


The ground was rimed with ice, and the cold seeped in through Cal’s jacket. He wished he had put on another layer. His breath rose in clouds in the air. Plains stretched away from the ship in all directions, dotted with unusual rock formations that rose from the frozen scrub grass like cones. 

The largest of the spires towered over the _Mantis_ , casting its shadow across the ship. Apart from its size, it looked no different from any of the other spires, but something about it drew Cal’s attention. It felt like pressure in his mind, or the low, barely-audible hum of electricity. It reminded him of how the Astrium had felt as he had carried it closer to the vault on Bogano. 

“Do you feel anything?” Cere’s voice startled him. He had been so focused on the spire’s call that he hadn’t noticed her approach.

“Yeah. Reminds me of the vault on Bogano,” he said. 

“That’s promising,” she said. 

The path to the spire was worn, overgrown with scrub grass and glazed with ice. Cal could tell that no one had been here for a long time. Up close, the spire’s granite exterior was imposing. Cal laid his hand on it, and the stone was burning cold and rough under his fingers. He closed his eyes and opened his mind to the Force.

The power of it was overwhelming. It washed over and through him and for a dizzying moment Cal felt like he might drown in it. Slowly, he mastered himself, imagined himself swimming with the tide instead of fighting it, and the panicked feeling faded.

He saw the past. Pairs of masters and padawans stood at the entrance, working together to open it. He watched as the whole spire twisted out of the ground, raised by the power of the Force, revealing the entrance. It called to him, and he wanted nothing more than to go inside.

The vision faded abruptly, leaving Cal with the strange feeling of being displaced in time. When he came back to himself, he was kneeling on the ground, his knees aching with cold. He blinked, disoriented. Cere crouched in front of him.

“What did you see?” she asked him. Cal looked up at the huge stone spire.

“It’s here,” he said. “I know how to get in.”

“Tell me.”

Cal got to his feet. “A master and padawan have to work together to raise it,” he said. Cere’s eyes tightened almost imperceptibly at the corners.

“Cal, I--” she began, looking away.

“I know,” he said. “But I can’t open it alone.”

“You are not a padawan, and you are not _my_ padawan,” she said, an edge in her voice. 

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be a master and a padawan,” Cal said. “Maybe any two Jedi can do it. We could try it anyway. It’ll work or it won’t.”

Cere looked up at the massive rock structure. Cal knew she could feel its call, just as he could. She took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she said, almost to herself. She looked up at Cal, her eyes unreadable, guarded. “Go tell Greez and Merrin that we’re going to try and go inside, and then meet me here.”

Cal was reluctant to leave her. He knew she still struggled with her connection to the Force, the uncertainty of reaching out. He also knew her strength-- he had seen it on Nur. He walked back to the _Mantis_ , occasionally checking over his shoulder. Cere had sat down on the ground, legs crossed in a pose of meditation. She was entirely still, the posture of a master.

Greez and Merrin met him at the ship.

“Cere and I are going to open the temple,” Cal said to them. “Can you keep watch?”

“I will come with you,” Merrin said.

“And I’ll stay with the _Mantis_ , with the guns ready,” Greez said. 

“Good,” Cal said. “I don’t think we’ll have any problems. If we do, I’ll call, and we’ll get out of here.”

“Good luck,” Greez said. 

Merrin walked with Cal back to the temple. Cere had not moved, still in her meditative trance.

“I will stay outside,” Merrin said. Cal nodded.

“Thanks. I feel better knowing you’re out here.”

“Me too,” she said, which made Cal laugh. He touched Cere’s shoulder.

“Cere, we’re ready,” he said. She got to her feet. 

“I will stand watch here, and Greez is waiting in the _Mantis_ ,” Merrin told her. 

“Thank you,” Cere said. She looked at Cal.

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, anticipation twisting up in his stomach. He wondered what kind of test they would find inside. “I’m ready.”

He sank to his knees and sat on his heels as he always did when he meditated. He reached out into the Force and let it break over him like an ocean wave. He directed his effort at the temple, willing it to open. Slowly, so slowly that Cal didn’t think anything was happening at all, the massive spire began to rise out of the ground. It scattered dust and rocks as it was pulled from its resting place.

Cal saw how cleverly it was built as it turned. White lines glowed on the ground under his knees, and he watched as they grew and intensified, a physical manifestation of the power that lay beneath the surface. He realized that he could feel Cere too, her presence both familiar and not. They had never built a bond in the Force, and Cal felt an echo of the old pain of his severed bond with Jaro Tapal. 

His instinct was to pull away, retreat into himself, cover the memory with something else. In a moment the temple stopped moving and began to sink back into the ground. 

_Focus._

He heard Cere’s voice clearly in his mind, and felt her strength shoring up his own. He took a deep breath and released it, feeling energy flowing back up through him, uncurling in his chest. He remembered his bond with Master Tapal and this time instead of the pain of his loss he focused on his memory of its strength. 

The temple began to move again, turning slowly as it rose. 

Cal watched in awe as the temple ground to a stop, revealing the door at its base. Dust motes drifted out on the breeze, catching in the sunlight. The entrance called to him, and he wanted to go inside. BD-1 made a low, awed whistle. 

“Yeah, it is pretty cool,” Cal agreed. 

Cere got to her feet. She stared for a moment at what they had done, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Well done,” she said, looking at Cal. He felt the glow of accomplishment in his chest. 

“The Jedi built this?” Merrin asked. 

“Thousands of years ago,” Cere said. “It’s amazing it survived.” She was already walking towards the entrance. Cal wondered if she felt its call, too.

“I’ll see you when we get back,” Cal said to Merrin. He turned to follow Cere, not wanting to fall behind. Merrin reached out and caught his wrist, holding him still. She took a step closer and kissed his cheek. 

“Good luck,” she said. 

Cal’s cheek felt hot where her lips had touched. He looked at her hand on his arm, then into her warm, bright eyes. Gathering his courage, he closed the small space between them so that his chest brushed hers. She didn’t back up or move away. She looked up at him, the hint of a knowing smile at the corner of her mouth. 

Cal leaned down and Merrin tipped her chin up. He kissed her gently, and she took both of his hands in hers. For a few long moments Cal was only aware of the sound of the wind across the plains and how soft Merrin’s mouth was, and how good she felt pressed against him.

She pulled away, breaking the kiss. When she looked at him, her expression was serious. Cal struggled to think of something to say; he had spent so much time thinking about exactly what he wanted to tell her. Now he had the perfect opportunity and all the words had left him. She let go of his hands and pushed him gently toward the temple. 

“We’ll talk later. Go on.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Cal said. He couldn’t stop thinking about her mouth on his, and the joy of knowing she cared about him, too. Feeling light, Cal jogged up the rise to catch up to Cere. BD-1 jabbered excitedly in his ear.

“Hush, you,” Cal said, without any anger. BD-1 laughed at him.

The temple was freezing cold inside, but not as dark as Cal had expected. Sunlight streamed in through shafts cut into the stone high above his head. Intricate murals and runes covered the walls. He thought the runes looked familiar, and he realized that they were similar to the inscriptions he had seen in the Zeffo tombs. He and Cere walked into the open center. Cere turned on her flashlight and read the script running along the pillars.

“The Jedi who came here faced a test,” she said. “A test of the bond between master and padawan.”

“Maybe since I’m not your padawan, we’ll get to skip the test,” Cal said. He walked around the open room, looking for anything interesting. Tunnels led away in all directions, and he was reminded of Ilum, with its vast network of ice caves and tunnels. 

“Maybe there won’t be any test at all, since the order has fallen,” Cere replied. The beam of her flashlight fell on a slumped figure leaned up against one of the pillars. Cal jumped a little when he saw that it was a corpse, still draped in its Jedi robe. He took a large step backward, feeling the hair rise on the nape of his neck. Cere quickly swept her light back to the inscriptions.

“What happens to the Jedi who don’t pass?” he asked. 

“According to this, Jedi who do not pass their ordeal remain trapped here,” Cere said, and Cal felt a chill run through him. He thought Cere sounded spooked, too. BD-1 _woooed_ softly. 

“Do you have any string? We can tie ourselves together to make sure we find our way out,” Cal said. He was only half-joking. Cere shook her head. 

“The master remains in this chamber while the padawan completes their ordeal,” Cere said. She looked at Cal. “Whatever you’re hoping to find, look fast.” Cal peered down a long hallway carved out of the stone. He ignited his lightsaber, which cast the hall into a cold blue light. 

“Yeah. We won’t stay long.”

Cere sat in the center of the floor, legs crossed. 

“Be careful, Cal,” she said, before she closed her eyes.

Cal followed the winding corridor, already feeling alone. The hall took a sharp turn, and Cal could no longer see Cere. Curious, he reached out to her in the Force, the faintest brush of a question. Her response startled him. He was still unused to communicating with someone through the Force. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. BD-1 beeped.

“Yeah, it feels pretty weird in here,” Cal replied. He knew they had not been walking for very long, but the air smelled different, stale and old, and the floor under his feet had a noticeable slant. “We’re going downhill,” he said. BD-1 agreed.

“Where do you think the archive might be?” Cal asked BD-1. 

BD-1 warbled uncertainly. Cal held up his lightsaber and saw that the hallway had runes inscribed down the walls. He couldn’t read them, and wished Cere was with him. Curious, he placed his hand on the inscriptions and reached into the Force, hoping for any connection to the person who had inscribed the wall. 

The runes were so old that he received nothing except the faintest echo of their maker, nothing concrete or helpful. He did, however, feel a pull, similar to the calling he had felt on Ilum. He let himself sink deeper into the Force, allowing it to draw and drag him. He saw the way clearly, and the image of an archive came into his mind. He knew exactly what it looked like even though he was certain he had never been inside. He kept his hand on the wall as he walked, fingertips skimming over the inscription. The small connection to the sage who had inscribed the walls seemed to help him focus.

He became aware of footsteps behind him, and knew without looking that it was Cere. 

“Got bored?” he asked. She fell into step beside him.

“If there is an archive in here, I want to see it,” she said. Cal’s lightsaber cast her face into a strange half-light. 

The corridor widened, then opened into an enormous room. Cal stopped at the threshold. BD-1 illuminated his searchlight, and combined with the light of Cal’s saber, Cal could see fairly well. He stood under an enormous arch cut from solid stone. It was engraved with the same runes that had guided him through the temple. 

He took a step into the room and raised his lightsaber. It was still full of long rows of tables and chairs where Jedi would have once sat and studied. The air felt cold and stale, like it had not been disturbed for a long time.

“This is it,” Cal said to BD-1.

“Yes it is,” Cere said from behind him, her voice dark and unfamiliar. “For you.”

The snap-ignition of a lightsaber sent a chill through him, and he spun around to look at her. Trilla’s lightsaber glowed red in her hand, hiding her eyes in shadow. He swallowed hard and sank into a defensive stance.

“Cere?” His heart was pounding in his throat. She took a step toward him, blade extended, and Cal fought his instinct to back up. He felt too shocked to think clearly. This didn’t make any sense. “W-what are you doing?” He couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice

“The Jedi order is gone, but the Emperor missed a few. It’s time to fix that,” she said. She attacked so quickly that it put Cal immediately off-balance. He snapped his blade up, and sparks flew from the contact. The shock of the hit echoed up his arm. Cere had never hit this hard when they were practicing.

Her next blow was meant to take his head off, and Cal parried and slid under her blade, both afraid for his life and unwilling to hurt Cere. He rolled to his feet and thrust forward, forcing her backwards, hoping to pin her against a wall. 

She slipped to the side and circled behind him so quickly that Cal barely managed to deflect her next hit. Flung wide, the tip of her saber cut deep into the stone behind him, leaving a glowing scar in the wall. Cere recovered and lunged at him, swinging her saber in a glowing arc. Cal caught her blade on his, pushing back with all his strength.

“Cere, why?” he asked, looking into her dark eyes over their locked blades. She kicked at his knee, her heavy boot making painful contact. Cal stumbled back and his shoulders hit the wall behind him. She had trapped him. 

She charged him, propelling herself with the Force. Cal threw out his hand and slowed her, then slammed his blade into hers, slapping it aside. It was a perfect opening, and he refused to take it. He slid around her, keeping his blade angled defensively across his body as he limped backward, further into the archive.

Suddenly, he felt as though he had been snatched by an enormous hand, and he remembered the terrifying strength of the Sith lord they had fought together on Nur. He couldn’t move, his arms pinned to his sides. Cere closed her fingers and Cal though his ribs would crack as she tightened her grip. She flicked her hand and his lightsaber was yanked away. 

She dragged him to her and held him at the tip of her blade. In its red light Cal saw her eyes, and the hatred in them horrified him.

“The Order deserved its fate,” she said as she held him still, the toes of his boots brushing the floor. “The Empire is inevitable, and you are foolish for thinking otherwise.” She raised her saber and Cal felt the hum of the blade under his chin. He looked into her eyes, hoping that she would see what she was about to do. 

“Cere, please,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Please don’t.”

He saw her hand move, the smallest flick of her wrist that would put her lightsaber through his throat. Cal called on the Force and pushed out against her hold with all of his strength. His push broke her grip on him, and the force of it threw them both backward. Cal rolled to his knees, but Cere recovered first and charged him.

Cal called his fallen lightsaber to him, ignited both blades and split the hilt. Cere was fast and agile, and Cal understood where Trilla had learned to fight. It took all of his concentration to anticipate her attacks, and sweat burned in his eyes and stuck his hair to his forehead. His arms felt like lead as he parried her over and over. She seemed tireless, and he was becoming exhausted.

Their blades threw sparks in the dark room as they connected. Cal flung all of his strength into forcing her back, and she yanked his feet out from under him with the Force, sending him sprawling. His head cracked painfully against the stone and he lay stunned, his lightsaber spinning away, its blade extinguished.

Dazed, he stared up at the ceiling. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He heard boots on the stone, saw the glow of red as Cere approached. Everything about this was wrong. She had rescued him on Bracca. They had fought together on Nur; she had saved him, she had nearly sacrificed herself for him. He knew this was not her. He knew Cere would never betray him like this.

Cere stood over him, her red blade raised over her head.

“What a disappointment,” she said, and swung her lightsaber down. 

Cal’s saber was in his hand in an instant, blue blade blazing. It sliced clean through Cere’s hilt and the lightsaber’s crystal, killing her blade and blinding him in a flash of white light. 

When his vision cleared, Cal lay in the strange half-darkness of the archive, the only light the glow of his saber. There was no sign of Cere. He was alone except for BD-1. He felt like he had run for miles, and he forced himself to get his breathing back under control as he tried to understand what had happened. 

BD-1 beeped a stream of alarmed questions. Cal sat up and rested his forehead on his knees. BD-1 jumped down from his shoulder and looked up at him, shining his light across him as if to ensure that he was fine. 

“I’m okay. It was just… some kind of vision,” he said. He felt shaken and exhausted. His arms ached as though he had actually been fighting. His chest ached as though the betrayal had been real. 

If this was his test, had he passed?

He pulled himself to his feet. Even though he had wanted to explore the archive for anything of interest, his strange vision had left him so unsettled that all he wanted to do was get out of the temple as quickly as possible. He leaned his forehead against the wall. The cool stone felt good, and Cal stretched out his senses in the Force.

He saw the temple, and felt Cere in the meditation chamber. Reaching further, he could feel Merrin standing outside, and Greez on the _Mantis_. They were all safe, and Cal relaxed. 

“Okay, BD. Let’s take a quick look around and then get the hell out of here,” he said. 

Greez was asleep in the captain’s chair with his boots propped on the console when one of the _Mantis'_ proximity sensors began to wail. He woke with a jolt and nearly fell out of his chair. He tapped the screen, trying to find what had tripped the sensor. The squadron of TIE fighters and the shuttle they escorted glowed bright on the monitor. 

“Oh, this is real bad,” he muttered to himself. Greez keyed his comm. “Cere, Cal, do you read?” He received no response, only the crackle of static. He blew out a breath in frustration. He tried Merrin’s comm.

“Hey Merrin, can you hear me?”

“I copy,” came Merrin’s precise voice. “Is that correct? Do I say that I copy?”

Greez had to smile. “Close enough. Are Cere and Cal still inside that temple?”

“Yes,” Merrin replied.

“Look, we’ve got Imperials coming our way. Do you think you could tell them to hurry up?”

“I cannot enter the temple,” Merrin answered. 

“Of course not,” Greez said to himself. He eyed the monitor. The squadron was closing in fast. He opened his channel to Merrin.

“I’m gonna get the _Mantis_ ready. Tell Cere and Cal they need to hustle when they get out of there,” he told her.

“I copy,” Merrin replied.


	4. Chapter 4

The archive was empty. All of the storage drives had been wiped, and whatever data had been there was long gone. The shelves held nothing except a thick layer of dust. Cal couldn’t tell if the Empire had done it, or the Jedi as a precaution. Disappointment sank heavily into his chest.

“There’s nothing here, BD,” Cal said as he examined the last row of shelves, dragging his fingers through the dust. BD-1 beeped sadly. Cal wasn’t sure why he felt so disappointed. He didn’t know what he had been expecting to find, except some dim hope that something remained of the old order. 

When he reached the end of the row, he felt the hair on the nape of his neck stand up, goosebumps sweeping up his spine. He stood still, listening, extending his senses through the Force. The sense of impending danger was too strong to be ignored.

“Something’s wrong,” he said. He ran out of the archive and up the corridor, letting the Force lead him back to the meditation room. The incline made his thighs burn, but he ignored the pain. 

He burst into the meditation chamber, expecting to find it swarming with stormtroopers. Instead he found Cere, still sitting on the floor deep in meditation. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Cere,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw him. 

“You made it,” she said. She stood up and stretched, stiff from sitting for so long. “I was beginning to think I might be stuck here.”

“Yeah,” Cal said. “But something’s wrong. We gotta go.” Cere looked at him.

“You felt something?”

Cal was already walking toward the temple door, his hand on his lightsaber. He couldn’t shake the feeling of impending danger. He walked through the door, Cere behind him. The sunlight was almost blinding after spending most of his day in the dark, and he winced.

A blur was coming towards him, resolving into Merrin as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. She jogged up the path and met them at the temple door. 

“We have to leave now,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” Cere asked. Merrin made to reply, but the familiar shriek of TIE fighter engines overhead cut her off. Cal looked up and saw an Imperial shuttle escorted by six fighters coming in for a landing. A cold, bad feeling settled in his stomach.

“That,” Merrin said. Cere’s eyes narrowed as she watched the squadron land near the _Mantis_. 

“How did they find us?” she wondered.

“What’s going on out there?” Greez’s voice came over their commlinks. 

“Greez, is the _Mantis_ ready to go?” Cere asked.

“Engines are running,” Greez replied.

“We’ve gotta run,” Cal said. He ignited both blades of his lightsaber and took Merrin’s hand. He looked at Cere, and she nodded. She unclipped Trilla’s lightsaber from her belt. Its red blade hummed with a low, dangerous sound. Cal hoped that they could hold off fire from the ships long enough to get them to the _Mantis_. Greez had the ramp open.

“Ready?” Cere asked them. Cal and Merrin nodded.

Cal sprinted across the field, lightsaber on guard in front of him. Merrin kept his pace, and Cere was right beside them. He saw the cannons on the TIEs power up, and anticipated the blasts. They struck his saber hard, sending shocks up his arm. He had to concentrate, calling on the Force to guide his hand. It took effort, and he tried to deflect the bolts back to the ships, missing more often than not. 

His legs and lungs burned, and the _Mantis_ seemed so far away. The TIEs unleashed another barrage of fire, burning away swathes of frozen ground. Cal gripped his saber in both hands and caught a barrage on both of his blades. He sent it back at the pilot, shattering the cockpit and throwing the pilot back in their seat. Beside him, Cere’s red saber hummed angrily as she kept up her defense. 

Cal noticed that the lead shuttle had dropped its ramp, and his heart sank when he saw the squad of purge troopers in slick black armor marching out. Their electrobatons glowed purple, and all of them carried heavy rifles on their backs. They fanned out, running towards Cal, Cere and Merrin. 

A blast of glowing green light flew past Cal’s ear, catching one of the troopers in the chest and throwing him backwards. Merrin had a second globe in her hand, and she flung it at another trooper. Cal heard him scream as it struck his helmet, and he fell to the grass in a boneless heap.

Blaster-fire rained down on them, and Cal didn’t know how much longer he could keep up his defense. They were nearly to the _Mantis_ ; Cal could have leapt inside with assistance from the Force, but he refused to leave Merrin and Cere. A purge trooper charged at them, his blaster rifle trained on Cal. 

“Go,” he shouted at Merrin beside him. “Get on board!” 

“I will stay and fight,” she shouted back. Green magick glowed in both of her palms. Red laser blasts tore up the grass between them and Cal spun, snapping his lightsaber up to deflect the bolts. He was too slow, and a rifle bolt struck him above the left elbow. He stumbled backward, dropping his guard.

Merrin shouted and two globes of magick struck down the trooper who had shot him, green fire licking and sparking across his armor. Cal’s left arm was completely numb, and he knew in a few moments he would feel the pain of the shot. 

Merrin was on the _Mantis’_ ramp now, shouting and hurling magick at the purge troopers. Satisfied that she was safe, Cal ran back into the fight.

Cere had cut down two troopers and was sparring with a third, but with the TIE fighters providing supporting fire, Cal knew their time was running out. His arm was a blaze of pain, and when he looked at it, he saw that his sleeve was charred and soaked with blood. He could smell the burn and it made him queasy. 

“Get back to the ship!” Cere shouted as she struck the purge trooper over and over.

“We’re leaving together,” Cal yelled back. He noticed that the troopers were concentrating their attention on him, forcing him and Cere further apart. Suddenly he understood: they were here for him. His friends would be incidental casualties. He knew what he needed to do.

“Surrender, Jedi,” growled the purge trooper Cere had engaged. Cere swung a blow that should have cut him in half, but he caught it on his electrostaff and shoved her back hard. She stumbled on one of the stone stumps in the ground, falling to one knee. The purge trooper swung his staff, and Cere flung out her hand. She pushed him backwards and his armor cracked against one of the stone spires.

Cal split his lightsaber and threw one blade, guiding it with the Force. It took the trooper’s helmet off and cut deeply into the rock behind him. He crumpled to the grass. The lightsaber returned to Cal’s hand, and Cere ran to the _Mantis_ , blaster-fire ricocheting from her saber. 

Cal knew he had to keep the troops’ attention to make sure his crew was safe. He knew he may not make it back to the ship. The ring of purge troopers was closing in, and the TIE fighters kept up their heavy barrage, blocking his path back to the _Mantis_. 

“BD-1, listen to me,” he said as he deflected bolt after bolt, his blade a blue blur in front of him. Pain shot up his left arm with every impact. “I need you to go with Cere,” Cal said. BD-1 shrieked defiantly, asserting that he was staying. 

Cal was sweating with effort, and his arms shook with fatigue. Cere was almost to the ship. He just needed to give her a little more time.

“No,” Cal said firmly. “You have to go. Please trust me.” BD-1 beeped sadly, but he obeyed. He leapt from Cal’s shoulders and ran after Cere, into the _Mantis_. Cere saw BD-1 and turned, alarmed, and Cal knew she understood what he was doing. 

“Greez, take off,” he called into his commlink. Static crackled for a moment. A purge trooper lunged at him, and Cal dodged back, away from the _Mantis_. 

“No way. We’ll wait,” Greez said.

“I’m pretty sure they’re here for me,” Cal said. The trooper advanced on him again, and he deflected a swipe from the trooper's baton, throwing his arm wide. Cal took his opening and punched his blade through the man's stomach. Cere and Merrin waited for him in the _Mantis_ ’ blast door, BD-1 at their feet. Cere drew her blaster and shot at the troops behind him.

“Okay Cal. Hurry up, will you?” Greez said.

“Yeah Greez. I’ll be right there.”

Cal saw one of the purge troopers aim his rifle at the _Mantis_ , at Cere and Merrin. He leapt sideways to block the spray of fire. His lightsaber felt heavy, dragging down his tired, aching arm. He deflected the bolts back into the shooter and the trooper fell, a row of smoking holes in his chestplate. Another trooper took his place. Too late, Cal saw him raise his rifle and pull the trigger.

The blue stun blast struck Cal in the chest, and his vision tunneled down to darkness.

Cere saw Cal fall, and felt her heart sink. She had seen what Cal had done, and understood why he did it. She couldn’t let his sacrifice go to waste. The _Mantis_ shook with the impact of TIE fire. She knew the shields would not hold up against the barrage. She snapped off a couple of shots in frustration, then holstered her blaster and ran to the cockpit.

“Greez, get the _Mantis_ out of here,” she shouted. She slid into her chair and began scrambling the _Mantis_ ’ signals to disguise their takeoff on the Imperial scanners. BD-1 clung to her shoulders, uncharacteristically silent. Merrin buckled into the jumpseat. 

“Where’s the kid?” Greez asked. BD-1 beeped and trilled angrily.

“They have him,” Merrin said, her tone clipped and angry. 

“We have to go, now,” Cere ordered. 

“We can’t leave him,” Greez argued, his hands, hovering over the controls. 

“We’re outnumbered and outgunned,” Cere snapped. “We’re going to get out of here and get them off our trail, then find Cal.” Another volley hit them, and the console lit up with warnings. “If we don’t leave soon, there won’t be anyone to come get him.”

“Cal wanted us to get out safely,” Merrin said. “We must go.”

Greez punched in the commands for takeoff. As the _Mantis_ rose, Cere looked down through the transparent cockpit floor and saw two purge troopers dragging Cal into the shuttle. He was limp between them, his hair falling across his face. His left arm was smeared with blood. She couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive.

She reached out to him in the Force and received no response, only dark silence.

Cal woke in darkness so complete that he thought he had lost his sight. He blinked a few times, hoping his blindness was some aftereffect of the stun shot, but he remained unable to see. Panic tightened in his chest, and fear edged into his mind. He lay still and tried to orient himself to wherever he was. 

He remembered the fight outside the temple, and the blue flash of the stun bolt that had dropped him. He ached all over from the shot, like he had completed a particularly challenging climb. His left arm throbbed with the deep, hot pain of the blaster burn. He touched the wound carefully with his right hand and winced when he felt sticky blood and raw, burned flesh. 

The ground underneath him was chilly and uneven. Cal stretched out his good arm and his fingers touched gravel and dirt. He felt no wall nearby, but when he brought his arm over his head, his knuckles scraped painfully over jagged rock. The panic came screaming back when he realized that the ceiling was less than a meter above his head. He guessed there was barely room for him to sit up.

He was certain that he was underground. The air was cool and damp and smelled of dirt. He recalled the huge mines he had seen in Lothal’s mountains as the _Mantis_ dropped into atmosphere. He knew mines were deep and complex, twisting their way into the earth as the miners followed the seams of precious minerals. He imagined the weight of an entire mountain above him, sitting on his chest. The thought of being trapped deep underground made him sick with dread.

He forced himself to breathe and let go of his fear. He needed a light, and he needed to find a way out of this terrible place. He checked his left wrist and was not surprised that his captors had taken his commlink. He reached for his lightsaber and knew it was gone before his fingers found the empty clip. Anger at the theft of his weapon ran through him, hot as the burn in his arm. Cal indulged it for a moment before pushing it aside. He needed to think and focus, not distract himself with pointless rage.

He carefully got to his knees, wincing as moving shifted his arm. The ceiling of the mine brushed the top of his head. Cal remembered some of the jobs he had worked on Bracca, where he had to squeeze himself into awkward, confined spaces. The memory reassured him. He had done this before, maybe not in the total darkness of a mine, but certainly in the cramped ventilation shafts and electrical bays of derelict ships. 

He knelt and sat on his heels, taking the familiar pose of meditation. He reached out through the Force, hoping he could use it to see in the darkness. He thought of the basic lightsaber exercises, where he was blindfolded and had to use the Force to see his target. This was different, since he had no idea what to look for. He had a vague sense of the incredible age of the mountains around him, and he realized that the mine was itself very old. It stretched out below him and away from him, a maze of dark tunnels and bottomless shafts. He could not sense any way out. The creeping despair rushed back, breaking his concentration.

_No one will find you here._

The thought echoed in his mind and Cal clenched his fists on his knees. The thought of being trapped in a derelict mine until he died of thirst or starvation was unbearable. He shuffled around on his knees, trying to feel out the space. He hoped an obvious exit would reveal itself. Sharp rocks dug into his hands and cut his palms. Every way he explored only seemed to go back further, and Cal knew that blind exploration was just as likely to lead him deeper into the mine as it was to lead him out. 

His captors had thrown him in the best possible prison-- one in which the prisoner could only become more entrapped. That thought bothered him, and he turned it over in his mind. His captors --the _Empire_ \-- had left him alive, his hands unbound. They had captured a Jedi, and instead of killing him on sight had put him in one of the most secure places on the planet.

Ice formed under Cal’s breastbone. If the Empire wanted him alive, they would probably be back to get him. The knowledge filled him with apprehension, but he knew that once he was out of this place, he had a better chance of getting away and finding his friends. He knew he had no hope of escaping the mine, and all there was for him to do was wait. 

He sank back on his heels and bowed his head. He slipped into the meditative trance, and felt his fear and pain fade away. When the Empire came for him, he would be ready. 

Major Nathanael Andersen’s headquarters overlooked Capital City’s downtown district. His office had an enormous floor-to-ceiling window that gave him an unobstructed view of the city and the mountains on the horizon. He stood in front of the window, his hands clasped at the small of his back. He kept his posture straight and correct out of habit, even though he was alone in his office.

His office commlink beeped. He crossed to his desk and acknowledged the call.

“Yes, Captain Gray?” he said.

“Sir,” she replied, her tone clipped as ever over the comm. “Your 1430 appointment is here.”

“Send her in,” Andersen replied.

He counted the forty-five seconds it would take for Gray to get up from her desk and touch the buzzer on his door. He smoothed his gray uniform tunic and opened the door, to reveal Captain Gray with her hand extended toward the buzzer. Her dark brows rose in surprise when he opened the door, but she quickly regained her composure. She had a Twi’lek with her, and Andersen recognized her from their holomessages. 

“Sir, this is Jaella Ven,” Gray said. “Ms. Ven, this is Major Andersen, Head of Security and Intelligence on Lothal.” Andersen held out his hand and Ven took it politely, her grip firm.

“A pleasure,” he said.

“Likewise,” Ven said coolly. He appreciated a good liar. 

“Please come in,” Andersen said. 

He closed the door behind them and motioned toward one of the chairs facing his desk. He took his own chair behind his desk. Jaella Ven looked completely at ease, her hands folded in her lap. Her expression matched the rest of her distant neutrality, but Andersen was used to spies. Her dark eyes were sharp and intelligent. He wondered which opposition group she was working for. Her plain gray coveralls and work boots could have belonged to any miner’s or mechanic’s union. He wondered how much it would cost him to bring her to his side as an intelligence officer.

“You’re here to collect your payment for the Jedi,” he said. He didn’t like to waste time talking around a subject.

“I am.”

Andersen touched his finger to a locked desk drawer and let the reader scan his print. He withdrew a datachip and sat it on the desk. The payment amount glowed in red numerals.

“This is the full bounty. The Empire thanks you for your service.” He slid the chip across to her and she slipped it into her pocket. If she was pleased by the amount, nothing in her face revealed it. Privately, Andersen thought the Empire was paying far too much to bring in space trash.

“Thank you, Major,” she said. She rose and turned toward the door. Andersen steepled his fingers.

“Ms. Ven, certainly you are aware of what I do. I am always looking for new assets, if you take my meaning? The pay is very good, much better than the occasional bounty.” She turned and looked at him.

“What will happen to the Jedi?”

Andersen blinked. He hadn’t expected that question. Most people didn’t care what happened to the individuals they turned in, once the credits had been exchanged.

“He’ll be killed, of course.” It wasn’t strictly the truth, but it was important that no leniency, perceived or otherwise, be shown toward the Jedi. Besides, Andersen understood that what happened to Jedi sent to Nur made a quick death look desirable. His words hung between them, and the corner of Ven’s mouth twitched in unconcealed disgust. Perhaps she would not make a good asset after all.

“Thank you for your time, Major. I will consider your offer.”

They both knew it was a lie.


	5. Chapter 5

Greez landed the _Mantis_ inside a naturally-formed semicircle of Lothal’s stone spires. It was a tight fit, and Merrin couldn’t watch as Greez completed the difficult landing. Cere had taken the copilot’s chair so that she could monitor transmissions and navigate.

“Do you think that we’ll be safe here?” Greez asked Cere. The nose of the ship just touched one of the spires, and Merrin wondered how quickly they could take off if the Empire found them. 

“I was able to mask our signal, but we need to search the ship for tracking devices. The Empire found us somehow,” Cere said. 

“Nobody better have touched my ship,” Greez said.

“Well, I have a feeling someone did,” Cere replied. 

Greez sighed. “I’ll get the scanner and meet you two outside. The _Mantis_ isn’t a big ship, except when you’re looking for something small.” He left the cockpit, and Merrin heard him rifling through the storage lockers.

Cere leaned her elbows on the console and rubbed her forehead. She looked defeated and exhausted, her slim shoulders slumped. Merrin knew how she felt. She got up and slid into the captain’s chair. 

“Don’t let Greez see you sitting there,” Cere said.

“I am not afraid of him,” Merrin replied. 

“I suppose you wouldn’t be,” Cere said. “He’s terrified of you.” 

Merrin winced internally. She had hoped that by now Greez would know that she would not harm any of her allies, and that she would do her best to keep them safe. 

Her best had not not been enough today. Worry gnawed at her, and she couldn’t get the image of Cal being dragged away, limp and bloody, out of her mind. She stared out through the viewport. An old ache tightened under her breastbone, the one that came up from time to time when she thought of her sisters, and how they had fought against the mechanical army sent to destroy them. Her magick had not been enough then, either.

“How are you doing?” Cere asked, pulling her from her thoughts. “You fought well out there today.”

The warmth and concern in Cere’s voice caught her off guard, and Merrin wondered when she would no longer be surprised by kindness. 

“I am okay,” she said. “How are you?” 

“I’m alright. This all just feels… familiar,” Cere said. Merrin nodded.

“Cal told me about your apprentice, the Second Sister,” Merrin said. “Is that what you mean?”

“Her name was Trilla,” Cere said quietly. 

“Cal is not your apprentice.” 

Cere tensed, her guard snapping back up, and Merrin saw the old pain there. She wondered if Cere would ever make peace with herself about what had happened to her apprentice. 

“No. But he is a member of this crew,” Cere said. 

“And you want to protect your crew. I understand that,” Merrin said. 

“Not just my crew. My friends,” Cere said, meeting her eyes.

“What happened today was not your fault,” Merrin said. “Cal gave us the chance to get away. He knows we will come find him.” 

“I hope so. Or he thinks we’re dead. Or he’s dead already.” Cere didn’t try to keep the bitterness and frustration from her voice. Merrin had considered all of this, but Cere’s words formed a cold knot in her stomach. She thought of how she had kissed Cal outside the temple, and promised him they would talk later. She regretted not telling him how she felt then, when they had been together.

Cere turned back to her console.

“I’m working on slicing into Imperial communications to see if I get anything in the radio chatter, but it could take a long time. I tried calling his comm, but I’m sure they took it,” Cere said.

“We have no other way to trace him?” Merrin tapped one black-lacquered fingernail on the arm of her chair, thinking. Cere shook her head.

“Not without a commlink.”

“You cannot use the Force to find him?” Merrin asked Cere. “Can Jedi not sense each other?”

“I haven’t tried. Using the Force is... difficult for me,” Cere said hesitantly. 

“You have said that,” Merrin said. “But I think you should not doubt yourself.”

“It’s not that simple,” Cere said. When Merrin looked at her, she seemed to see something far beyond Merrin or the _Mantis’_ cockpit, and there was sadness in her eyes. “The dark side is always there, calling. When Cal and I opened the temple, I felt it. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to fight it back.”

Merrin understood how she felt. Even though she had come to love her life with her crew, her own shame and anger at being used by Taron Malicos often still felt fresh. It sometimes threatened to overwhelm her, all these months after she had left Dathomir. Merrin wondered if she would ever be free of it, or if it would haunt her for the rest of her days. 

“You do what is necessary to protect your friends,” Merrin said. “I would not be a part of your crew if I did not think so.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Cere said, and Merrin knew by her tone that the conversation was over. Cere got out of her chair and stretched. “In the meantime, we need to find out how the Empire tracked us. Greez is waiting.” She left the cockpit, and Merrin got up to follow her.

A low, sorrowful beep stopped her. BD-1 had tucked himself into his usual corner of the console, and he had been so quiet that Merrin had forgotten that he was there. He looked up at her expectantly. He had been uncharacteristically subdued since Cal’s capture. She would not have guessed that a droid could look sad, but BD-1 did. She was surprised that he had not gone with Cere or Greez. 

“Would you like to come as well?” she asked him. She felt awkward talking to him, since she knew BD-1 understood her, but she understood little of his language. He bobbed up and down and beeped enthusiastically. Merrin picked him up carefully and placed him on her shoulder. He shifted from side to side and beeped what sounded like a question.

“Yes, that’s okay,” she said. “Are you comfortable?” BD-1 trilled cheerfully in response and settled on her right shoulder. Merrin smiled. “I will understand you one day.” 

Merrin walked around the _Mantis,_ not entirely sure what she was looking for. On her shoulder, BD-1 ran his scanning beam over the hull. Above her, Cere slowly walked along the top of the ship.

“What will this tracking device look like?” Merrin called to Greez and Cere.

“Not sure,” Greez said. He was lying on the ground under the ship, running his scanner along her belly. “Just look for anything unusual.” 

“Helpful,” Merrin said under her breath. Nothing irregular stood out against the _Mantis’_ sleek hull plating. She rounded the tail, peering into the complex array of the ship’s nacelles. If anyone did want to hide something on the ship, she thought this would be a good place to do it. 

She thought about where she might hide a small object, especially if she were in a hurry and didn’t want to be noticed. She focused on the area within her reach and line of sight. Nothing looked out of place. 

“Do you see anything?” she asked BD-1. The droid ran his scanning beam over the complex electronics and vents. He began to chatter rapidly, and jumped from her shoulder to land on an exhaust port above Merrin’s head. “Is something there?” BD-1 trilled an affirmative.

She reached up, blindly feeling around for whatever BD-1 had found. He nudged her hand to the left, and her fingers just barely brushed a round, solid object. She stretched up on her toes, got a grip on it and yanked hard, and felt it break away from the ship. It was a small, matte-black puck, heavy in her palm. A tiny blue light blinked steadily, the only indication that the object did anything at all.

“I think we found something,” Merrin called to Greez, who was closest to her. She reached up, lifted BD-1 down, and placed him back on her shoulder. Greez rolled out from under the ship and wiped his hands on his jumpsuit. 

“Hey Cere, Merrin’s got something,” Greez shouted. Cere slid down the side of the hull and landed gracefully, her boots crunching on the icy ground.

“BD-1 found this,” Merrin said, holding out her hand so that Cere and Greez could see the object in her palm. Cere picked it up and examined it, frowning.

“It’s an Imperial tracking device,” she said. “Someone tagged us.” Her mouth compressed into a thin line. “We’ve been followed this whole time.” 

“Do they know where we are now?” Merrin asked. She felt cold, knowing that the Empire had made a calculated move to follow them and capture Cal.

“I’m not sure. I scrambled our signal after we left the temple, but the tracker’s still active,” Cere said. “We have to assume we aren’t safe here.”

She dropped the tracker on the ground and pulled her blaster. She fired three shots into the device, leaving only a smoking hole in the ground.

“Good luck finding us now,” Greez said. “We need to move the ship.” He looked at the _Mantis,_ neatly tucked into the circle of stones. “Let’s hope getting her out of here is easier than landing was.”

Greez had barely gotten them in the air when the ship’s comm began to chirp. Cere frowned at the identification number on the screen. 

_Unknown._

She hoped that it was Cal, and that he had somehow freed himself from his captors. She tapped the switch to accept the call, and was surprised when the holographic figure of the Courier appeared in miniature on her console. The Twi’lek woman faded in and out, as though the signal was encountering heavy interference.

“Hello? Do you read?” the Courier said, her voice distorted by static.

“More or less,” Cere replied. “Can I help you?”

The Courier’s face resolved as the signal improved, and Cere could see she looked tense and sober. 

“Cere Junda. My name-- my real name-- is Jaella Ven. I know where your friend is. I want to help you find him.”

On the periphery of his senses, Cal felt the rumble of machinery. Deep in his meditative trance, he was certain he felt the approach of a vehicle, and he knew it carried Imperial troops. He was reluctant to break the trance-- surrounded and immersed in the Force as he was, he felt entirely safe and calm. He knew that darkness and the weight of the mountain above him awaited him.

He pulled himself back to the absolute blackness of the abandoned mine. His legs had gone numb long ago, but he had barely noticed. Now they burned with pins and needles as he struggled to stretch out in the confined space. He massaged a cramp in his thigh as he listened for the vibration he had felt before.

It was louder now, and he inched himself towards the sound, boots slipping in the loose gravel. The noise turned into the loud roar of a combustion engine. Cal saw the glow of lights coming towards him, casting strange shadows along the walls.

The dim light allowed Cal to see some of his surroundings for the first time. He was crouched underneath a rough overhang of rock, deeply undercut in a way that made him nervous. To his shock, he sat only a few meters from where the undercut opened into a larger tunnel.

Cal tried to slide out into the tunnel and saw stars when his head banged into something invisible and completely solid. He could have kicked himself for not anticipating the energy barrier that kept him a prisoner in the old mineral seam. He reached out and touched the barrier. It hummed and vibrated against his fingertips. If he could find its generator, he might be able to disable it with the Force. 

Cal felt along the barrier with the Force, seeking the generator. He had never tried to use the Force to manipulate electronics, but he saw no other options to get out of the old mine. He found the generator, high up on the wall outside. He grasped at it with the Force, struggling to move an object he couldn’t see. He felt it tremble weakly, but it was firmly embedded in the rock wall. Frustration bubbled up inside him, disrupting his focus. He tried again, with the same results.

The lights were very close now, and Cal saw the shadow of a low vehicle crawling towards him. He knew he was out of time. Large tires rolled past him, crunching gravel. A pair of shining black boots swung into view. Blinding light shone in his eyes, and Cal winced at the brightness after so long in the dark. Two stormtroopers flanked a tall man in a crisp gray uniform. Cal guessed he was a Captain by his rank cylinders. The officer looked down his sharp nose at him, and Cal wished he could stand up instead of crouch awkwardly.

Cal assessed his situation. He knew that as soon as the energy barrier came down, he would have a chance to overpower the officer and his guards, and try to snatch a weapon. That still left him fighting in incredibly tight quarters, injured, without knowledge of the way out of the old mine. It would be better to comply, let them escort him out, and try to escape once he was back on the surface. Cal relaxed and shifted to sit cross-legged, showing that he had no intention of escape.

“Enjoyed it down here, did you?” the officer asked, barely concealing his disdain. Cal shrugged.

“I’ve been worse places.” The officer’s lip twitched under his moustache. He reached up and slapped the control on what Cal assumed was the generator for the energy barrier. The stormtroopers aimed their rifles at him.

“On your feet,” the Captain barked. Cal slid out into the tunnel and stood. The troopers’ rifles never left him. One of them grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. Hard fingers pinned his wrists at the small of his back. Cal winced as the trooper yanked his injured arm. The Captain locked cold, heavy manacles around his wrists, their edges digging painfully into his skin. 

“Get on the crawler,” one of the troopers said, motioning to the low-slung mine crawler with his gun. Cal took a seat on one of the benches. He weighed his odds of escaping one more time, and forced himself to be patient.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked as the Captain got back on the crawler. The trooper to his left swung the butt of his rifle up so quickly that Cal didn’t have time to react. The blow landed on his jaw and snapped his head sideways, lights bursting in his vision. Cal sagged forward, dazed, tasting blood where his teeth had cut the inside of his cheek. 

“Shut up, trash,” the trooper snapped as he climbed on board. He jammed the muzzle of his rifle into Cal’s ribs, hard enough to bruise, and held it there with his finger on the trigger. It was clear that he would shoot if Cal tried to move. Cal debated spitting blood on his boots, remembered that discretion was the better part of valor, and chose to restrain himself. 

The old mine crawler started with a cough and jerked forward, rolling slowly down the tunnel. The entire tunnel had been blasted out of solid rock. Above, the ceiling was studded with huge bolts that looked too fragile to hold the tunnel together. Water dripped down from the ceiling, cold where it landed in his hair and slid under his collar. 

The crawler emerged into daylight that made Cal’s eyes water. He blinked away the tears and when his vision cleared, he was stunned to see that their vehicle was climbing up a mountain road. The road was so narrow that any error would put them down the side of the mountain into a deep ravine. Far below, a river churned through the ravine, foaming with rapids and whitewater. They were high up, and Cal could barely make out Capital City in the distant haze of pollution. 

As their crawler climbed higher, the mountain became increasingly bare, the trees cut down and hauled away. Enormous haulers and diggers ate deep into the mountain, spewing black smoke into the air, pumping slurry water out of the ground. Cal realized that he was looking at an enormous open mine, built on top of the older mine where he had been held prisoner. It stretched out as far as he could see, a huge scar on the land. He recalled what the Courier had said to him when he had asked why Lothal needed water filters. Now he understood what the Empire was doing to the planet. When he looked out over the mountains, he saw similar scars of the mines all over the range.

The narrow track took a sharp turn, ending in a block of low gray concrete buildings. The stormtrooper to Cal’s right jumped down from the bench and leveled his rifle at Cal’s chest.

“Get down,” he ordered. Cal slid from his seat and the trooper wrapped his hand around his left arm, squeezing hard on the blaster wound. Cal’s knees went weak with the pain, and he stumbled forward. 

He distracted himself from the pain by looking around, trying to get a feel for the security here. Stormtroopers walked between buildings, and Cal knew he was outnumbered, especially without his lightsaber. He would have to look for any opportunity to escape.

He was shoved through an open blast door into one of the low buildings. It seemed to be offices-- nothing but a long hallway of identical doors. The Captain touched a comm unit on the wall.

“Major Andersen, we have the Jedi,” he said. The door in front of them slid open revealing a neat, sparse office. The trooper pushed Cal inside, making a point of jostling his injured arm. Cal forced himself to stand up straight. 

A tall man with cropped silver hair sat behind a desk, typing on a datapad. He was unremarkable looking in every way, except for his pale, cold gray eyes. They were so light as to appear nearly colorless in the harsh fluorescent lighting. 

“Leave us,” he said in the clipped accent typical of Imperial officers. The guards disappeared and the door closed behind them. Andersen extended a hand to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit.” 

Cal could tell Andersen was used to people obeying him. Cal stood still, unwilling to comply. Andersen raised an eyebrow, annoyed. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his chest. His hands were soft and unscarred. He was a man who gave orders, not one who carried them out. 

“I am Major Andersen, Head of Imperial Security and Intelligence on Lothal. Do you understand what that means?” His voice was smooth and unhurried. 

“You’re a spy,” Cal said. Andersen’s thin smile did not touch his eyes.

“Intelligence officer,” Andersen corrected. “And my agents have brought me a Jedi. Do you have a name, Jedi?” Cal wondered why they were bothering with this back and forth.

“I’m sure your spies told you that.”

“Yes they did, Cal Kestis. But I thought you might want to tell me yourself.” Cal could sense his impatience, his desire to control every facet of their interaction. Cal was frustrating to him. 

Andersen reached out of sight and opened a desk drawer. He removed an object wrapped in dark cloth and laid it on his desk. He pulled back the cloth, revealing Cal’s lightsaber. He met Cal’s eyes, gauging his reaction. 

“That doesn’t belong to you,” Cal said, trying and failing to keep the edge of anger from his voice.

Cal could have called his saber to his hand, cut off his cuffs, struck Andersen down, and eliminated the guards outside the door. He wondered if Andersen was hoping he would do it, so that he would have an excuse for whatever harm he intended to do. Cal clenched his fingers hard, his nails digging into his palm. If he did it, he knew he would have every stormtrooper and officer stationed at the mine after him. He would not make it out of the complex and down the mountain. He relaxed his hand.

Andersen leaned back in his chair. “What do you think of our mines here on Lothal? The mining companies consider them a great achievement. They’ve brought prosperity to the planet.”

“To the Empire, you mean,” Cal said. “I’ve seen what you’ve done to the planet.”

Andersen’s mouth tightened with annoyance. “You worked in the Bracca scrapyards, did you not? The Empire thanks you for your service there.” Cal blinked, surprised that Andersen knew about his time as a rigger. 

“You don’t know anything about Bracca,” Cal said sharply. He fought back the anger he felt rising in him. Andersen gave him a pale, cruel look.

“I am an Intelligence officer, Cal. If you think I did not recognize the union patch on your shoulder and that rigger’s guild tattoo, you’re mistaken. Don’t worry, you’re not here for an interrogation. I doubt you have much of anything valuable in your head anyway. You will be sent to the moon of Nur. This is not my order, it came from someone with a security clearance I’ve never seen before. Someone wants you, Cal Kestis.”

Cal felt cold all over, and he fought to keep his fear from showing on his face. A knot of panic tightened in his stomach. He knew that he likely would not escape the Inquisitorius a second time. Andersen watched him and seemed to look right into him. 

“That scared you. It should. You’ll be transported tomorrow.” Andersen touched the screen on his desk and the door behind Cal opened. Stormtrooper boots thumped on the concrete floor as the guards came back. “Take him to the security block,” Andersen said. The guards led Cal away.


	6. Chapter 6

Cere stared down at the flickering hologram on the _Mantis’_ console. 

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“He’s being held at one of the mines in the mountains. I will send you the coordinates,” Jaella Ven said. 

“We found a tracking beacon on our ship. Did you put it there?” Cere asked. Ven looked away, unable to meet her eyes, and Cere knew the answer. 

“Yes. I helped an Imperial intelligence officer obtain information about where you were so that I could collect the bounty on Jedi. The credits will help fund my cause.” 

“And what is your cause?” Cere ground out through clenched teeth. 

“The Coalition for Environmental Reform on Lothal,” she said. “Please understand why I did it. The Empire is destroying our planet. With more resources, we can sabotage their industry, make it too costly to stay on Lothal and keep expanding. Maybe we can even reverse some of the harm they've done.”

Cere clenched her hands on the console. She swallowed the cold, cruel reply that she so badly wanted to give. While she admired Ven’s tenacity and desire to undermine the Imperial government, she had also witnessed how swiftly the Empire worked to crush any whisper of insubordination.

“I see,” she said, fighting to keep her tone neutral. “Why are you helping us now?” 

“I already have the Empire’s credits. I do not care if they get to keep the Jedi or not,” Ven replied. "It would hurt them, if their prize was stolen from them." Something about the way Ven referred to Cal as _the Jedi_ , in the same way she might refer to any other cargo stoked the rage Cere felt growing within her. From his place on the console, BD-1 bleeped something furious and unrepeatable, and Cere agreed with him. She wondered if Ven felt any remorse for what she had done, or if she simply saw the _Mantis’_ crew as the means to an end.

“Send me the coordinates for the mine,” she said to Ven.

Ven looked up at her. “The mine isn’t on the public maps, but I assure you it’s there. The Empire doesn’t want the people to know the extent of their destruction. Here are the coordinates.” She keyed something into an offscreen computer, and her message appeared on the _Mantis’_ comm. “Your friend is still alive,” she said. “Hurry.” 

The screen went black as the transmission ended. Cere scrolled through the coordinates, her hand shaking with rage. She took a few deep breaths and forced her anger down, feeling it ebb as she regained control. She focused on what she could do instead of the disappointment she felt for failing to keep her crew safe.

“BD-1, can you download these coordinates and make us a map?” she asked the little droid. He beeped enthusiastically and plugged himself in to the _Mantis_ ’ computer. 

“What was that about?” Greez asked, even though Cere knew full well he had been listening to the entire conversation.

“Our Courier sold us out in exchange for the Imperial bounty on Cal,” she said, looking from Greez to Merrin.

“That--” Cere raised a hand to cut Greez off.

“It doesn’t matter. She knows where Cal is, and she sent us the coordinates. We need to go find him, Captain.” 

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Merrin asked, her eyes sharp and angry. 

“We don’t. But even if it is, we have to try,” Cere said. “BD-1, do you have the map?”

BD-1 beeped affirmatively. He projected the map he had created onto the deck so that they all could see it. It showed an open mine so large that it looked like the entire top of the mountain had been cut off. Cere’s heart sank when she saw how well- guarded it was. 

“Look at this,” she said, indicating the garrison of stormtroopers. “They’ll see us coming from miles away.”

“We should wait until it’s dark,” Greez said. “I know you don’t want to, but it would give us a little cover.” Cere knew Greez was right, even though she didn’t want to leave Cal in Imperial hands any longer than necessary. She checked her chrono. It was already late afternoon, local time. 

“Okay,” she agreed. 

“We have to consider that Cal will also be trying to escape,” Merrin said. Cere nodded. The thought had occurred to her. She knew that if Cal was still alive and unharmed, he would be working just as hard to get away from his captors as his crew was to find him.

“Find us somewhere to hide out for a few hours, Captain,” Cere said tp Greez. “When it gets dark, we’ll go get our missing man.”

Cal sat cross-legged on the bunk in his cell, thinking. He had nothing but time on his hands to plan his escape. He knew the detention block was a long building lined with cells like his. He had been brought in through a main entrance, and he suspected there was at least an emergency exit somewhere. One of those would be a viable escape route, once he got out of his cell.

The cell was empty except for the bunk and a drain in the corner of the floor. The walls were smooth drab duracrete without any seams or panels, and the ceiling was the same apart from a single fluorescent light. He didn’t think he would get very far with only a lightbulb as a weapon, but it was something to consider. The cell had no door, only a shimmering red energy field. 

The guards had taken his chrono with his comm, but Cal counted off the minutes while he sat and observed the guards as they made their rounds. Every twenty-three minutes, two stormtroopers passed by, made sure he was still there, and continued on their way. He knew there were additional guards at the main entrance, and cameras all along the hallways. He wondered idly if it would be better to exit the same way he had been brought in, or spend time looking for a less conspicuous back door or emergency exit. 

He knew that if he went for the main door, he would be met with at least four stormtroopers standing guard. All of the guards here were heavily armed with blaster rifles and secondary sidearms. He noticed they all carried lightweight tactical packs as well. He wondered if the variation in standard kit was because of the rugged mountain terrain and relative remoteness of the mine. He guessed the packs contained rations and survival gear. Obtaining one would be incredibly useful.

The guards had removed his cuffs, and Cal ran his hand through his hair, thinking. His fingers tangled in the grimy strands. He made a mental inventory of what was available to him. The Imperials had clearly searched him thoroughly. His belt pouches and pockets had been emptied, and even his multitool and small folding pocket knife were gone. He had no weapon, no tool except for the Force. Even so, his cell was so bare that there was nothing to use the Force upon. 

Fatigue dragged at him, and Cal stretched out on his bunk. It was an uncomfortable, hard slab that pressed on his bruises, but he was grateful to lie down for a while. The blaster burn on his arm was becoming too painful to be easily ignored. His sleeve was crusted with dirt and stained with old blood. The wound felt hot, and when he carefully explored it with his fingers, even the light touch made him dizzy. He knew that was bad, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

The bruise on his jaw throbbed, and when he touched it he found a tender lump and deep cut where he had been struck. He was filthy, his blue jacket and pants covered in mine dirt. He badly wanted a shower and clean clothes, a good meal, and his own bunk. He wanted to be home with his crew on the _Mantis_.

The thought of his friends sent an ache through him. He missed them. He wished he had BD-1 with him to help him escape. He wished he had told Merrin how he felt about her, and kissed her one more time. He wanted one of Greez’s steaks and a game of holochess with Cere. He wondered if they had escaped safely, or if they had been shot out of the sky after he had been captured. He pushed the thought away-- it was too awful to consider. He knew that they would be looking for him, if they were still alive. He also knew that finding one person on an entire planet was a nearly impossible task, and that he had to escape before he was sent back to the Inquisitorius.

Cal refused to think about what would happen to him once the Inquisitors had him. He pushed himself upright and drew his knees up to his chest. He rested his chin on them and stared out through the energy barrier that kept him from freedom. He had made a dozen plans to escape his cell, none of them good. He had nothing in his cell that he could use to break out, which meant that he would need to make use of what was on the other side of the energy barrier. 

The guards marched past his cell, and Cal considered snatching a weapon and somehow triggering it or overloading the power cells using the Force to create an explosion. Doing so would likely set off every alarm in the complex. He debated grabbing one of the guards and forcing him to disarm the barrier, but that left him the other guard to deal with. The idea wouldn’t let him go, and Cal chased it around until his mind snagged on something he had almost completely forgotten from his training years ago. 

He remembered Jaro Tapal explaining that sometimes it was necessary for Jedi to use the Force to influence the thoughts and actions of others. His master had warned him that using the Force this way meant walking a fine line between influencing others and seizing their free will. It was an advanced technique, and Cal had never tried to do it as a padawan. He disliked the idea of using a person this way, it felt invasive and wrong, but he also knew he had little other choice. A guard that walked up to his cell and opened it by what would appear to be his own volition would raise no alarms.

A chill of excitement and apprehension ran down Cal’s spine. The solution seemed so obvious that he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it to begin with. He knew exactly how he was leaving this place.

Cal forced himself to wait a few hours, until he was certain it was dark outside. He was also hoping that the night watch would be more complacent than their daytime counterparts. He heard boots coming down the hall, and a single guard approached his cell. Cal couldn’t believe his luck. He had spent the past few hours working out how he was going to incapacitate two guards without either of them calling for backup. 

He got off of his bunk and crossed the small cell to stand in front of the energy barrier. He was the most apprehensive about this part of his plan. He had never tried to coerce a living being and he forced himself to set aside his distaste for what he was about to do. 

“Hey,” he called to the guard. The trooper’s helmet snapped up, and Cal could tell he was surprised.

“What do you want?” he asked. Cal half-raised his right hand, and reached out to the trooper’s mind with the Force.

“I need you to open this cell and let me out,” he said, imbuing his voice with calm authority, reinforcing the words with the Force. He felt the man’s hesitation and also his desire to obey. 

“That’s pretty irregular,” the trooper said. Cal felt his uncertainty, and he pushed at his mind. He realized with a chill of fear how easy it would be to shove into the other’s mind and make him do what he wanted. It was a powerful feeling, and Cal immediately turned away from it. 

“It’s fine. Open this cell,” Cal repeated, using the same calm, authoritative tone he had heard from so many officers. He projected the strength of his will into the order. For a few endless, silent seconds, the stormtrooper stared at him, completely still. Cal felt his own focus waver as doubt about what he was doing bled into his mind. With effort, he let go of his doubtful thoughts and pressed harder. Stormtroopers were drilled to obey. This man wanted to obey him, he could feel it. He nurtured that feeling in the Force. He needed the trooper to want to do this, to think it was his own decision.

“Okay,” the trooper said at last. Cal let the connection between them snap, relief flowing through him. The trooper touched a control panel on the wall and the energy field disappeared. 

Cal thrust his hand out and froze the trooper in place, then grabbed his rifle and flipped the power setting to stun. Cal slipped behind him and kicked his knees out from under him, then stunned him as he stumbled into the cell. The trooper fell to the floor in a limp clatter of armor. Cal changed the blaster rifle’s setting to kill and shot out the hall cameras. His aim was poor and it took him more time than he would have liked. The comm on the trooper’s belt beeped, startling him. 

“Is everything normal on your wing, CB-7250? I thought I heard something.”

Cal picked up the commlink and thumbed the switch. “All normal down here,” he replied. His heart was racing in his ears, and he fought to keep his voice steady.

“Huh. Okay. Must be my bad ear acting up again.”

“Yeah, probably,” Cal said to himself. He looked down at the unconscious trooper and was relieved that they were about the same size, though the trooper was bulkier than his own lean frame. He knelt and stripped the trooper of his armor. It was awkward, and Cal knew he was wasting precious time, but he needed a disguise to finish the second half of his plan.

He undressed quickly, the cool air raising goosebumps on his skin. He got into the armor, fumbling with unfamiliar buckles and straps. The armor fit him well enough, even though it was too loose in some places and too tight in others. He hated how restrictive and uncomfortable it was. The chestplate dug into his ribs and the boots pinched, and Cal understood why stormtroopers always moved so stiffly. He already missed his own well-worn, comfortable boots.

He opened the guard’s pack and saw that it contained rations and survival gear, which would be useful if he had to sleep in the woods for a few nights. He bundled up his clothes and boots and shoved them in the pack and fastened it shut. He winced as he slipped it onto his shoulders, careful of his injury. He put the helmet on last. He could tell that the narrow field of vision was going to annoy him, and reminded himself that this was necessary, and temporary.

He stepped out of his cell and hit the button that re-activated the energy barrier, trapping the unconscious trooper inside. He would not be calling for reinforcements any time soon. Cal forced himself to walk down the hallway as though he were a guard doing his rounds, though he wanted to run as fast as he could until he was safe.

Cal decided that he didn’t want to waste time exploring the building for a back exit or side door. The main entrance was close, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he did something that gave him away. The building was easy to navigate, and soon Cal was at the main door. A control screen blinked, requiring an ID to unlock the door. Cal’s heart sank, until he remembered that the guards likely carried their IDs with them.

He rifled through the belt pouches of his borrowed armor. He was certain the guard would have some sort of security clearance. He found a plain, unlabeled card in one of the pockets and hoped it was what he needed. He tapped the card to the reader and relief washed over him when the door slid open. 

Two guards stood outside. Cal was relieved that the evening watch was lighter than its daytime counterpart. The trooper to his left leaned on the doorjamb, his head dropped to his chest. He straightened immediately when the door opened. Cal tensed and moved his finger to the trigger of his rifle.

“Evening,” the guard said, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Nice one tonight,” Cal replied. His voice sounded strange through the helmet’s vocal modulator. 

“Anything going on in there?” asked the guard to his right. 

“The usual,” Cal said. He didn’t want to be drawn into conversation.

“Heard they’ve got a Jedi. That’s not usual,” the guard replied. Cal felt the hair on the nape of his neck stand up. 

“Yeah, he’s in there,” Cal said. 

“I’ve seen him. He’s not much to look at. Just looks like a kid,” said the guard to his left.

“I’d like to see a lightsaber up close, you know?” said the right-hand guard. “Right Sarge?” Cal realized the man was addressing him, and noticed for the first time the chevrons on the shoulder of his stolen armor.

“It would probably be the last thing you saw,” Cal said, keeping his tone light and joking. The guard to his left laughed.

“He’s right about that. Rumor has it those Jedi could take out whole squads like nothing.”

“Better keep your guard up then,” Cal said.

“Oh, yes sir. Nothing gets past us,” said the man to his right.

“I don’t doubt it,” Cal replied. He made himself keep moving, not wanting to be drawn deeper into the conversation.

“‘Night Sarge,” he heard one of the men call to him as he walked away. He walked down the path between buildings and waited until he was out of the guards’ sightlines to slip into the shadows. He leaned against a wall and let out a deep breath, feeling some of his anxiety bleed away. He almost could not believe he had escaped. 

He wanted to contact the _Mantis_ , but he needed to do it somewhere where he wouldn’t be overheard. He looked down the road, and saw that he was close to the security building where he had spoken to Andersen. 

His lightsaber was still in Andersen’s desk, and Cal wanted it back.

He made his way toward Andersen’s office, slipping between the low, blocky outbuildings to stay out of sight. The buildings backed up to a sparse stand of tall, long-needled trees, the only ones left on the mountainside. Cal wondered how they had escaped the Empire’s clear-cutting, and he appreciated the small amount of cover they provided. Something snapped under his boot, loud in the quiet night. He flattened himself against the side of a building and scanned around. He saw no movement on the road; he hadn’t been seen.

Cal crossed the road to the security building, feeling exposed under the harsh exterior floodlights. He tapped his stolen ID card to the reader on the door, hoping it would unlock and wouldn’t immediately set off an alarm. The door opened silently, and he stepped inside. The building was dark, lit only by strips of dim emergency lights. Cal closed the door behind him and stretched out his senses. As far as he could tell, the building was empty.

He found Andersen’s office and tried the ID card again. The door slid open and inside, the office was completely dark. Only a faint glow from the lights outside came in through the large window behind Andersen’s desk. Cal yanked off his helmet and gave his vision a moment to adjust. When he could see, he slipped his pack from his shoulders. In the dark, he quickly removed the stormtrooper armor and got dressed in his own clothes. 

He crossed the room to the desk and crouched in front of the bottom drawer, where Andersen had kept his lightsaber. It was locked tight, equipped with a pad to scan the owner’s fingerprint. Cal cursed softly. He wished BD-1 was with him. He could only think of one way to break the lock, and he knew it would be risky.

He stood up and backed as far away from the desk as he could, aimed his blaster at the drawer, and turned his head away to shield his eyes. He squeezed the trigger and blasted the lock. The blaster bolt slagged the lock and half the drawer, leaving a molten, glowing mess. Cal tugged the drawer open with the muzzle of his rifle, half-expecting it to be empty.

Relief washed over him when he saw his saber, safe in the bottom of the drawer. It almost made up for the absence of BD-1 and his friends, and he felt better with its weight against his hip. He leaned against the desk and keyed the _Mantis_ ’ frequency into his commlink. 

“Cere? Greez? Do you read?”

He received no reply, only a burst of static. He sighed and bowed his head, feeling very tired. He fought down frustration and tried again. “Cere? _Mantis_ , do you read me?”

“Cal?” Cere’s voice was distorted, but Cal’s heart lifted when he heard her.

“Cere, it’s me, it’s Cal. Can you hear me?”

“This is an Imperial signal. Where are you?” 

“Yeah, I had to improvise a little. I’m in a mine-- in the mountains somewhere.” He realized that he didn’t actually know where he was beyond that. “Can you trace my signal?”

“I can try. It’s a weak signal. I’m getting lots of distortion.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty remote out here,” Cal said. “Listen, I’ve gotta move, but I’ll keep the commlink on. I’ll call you when I’m somewhere safe.”

“I copy. Stay safe.”

Cal clipped the comm back to his belt and set it to broadcast his location. When he looked up, he saw headlights in the window, coming down the road. 

“Time to go,” he said to himself. 

He had taken one step toward the door when the building’s lights came up. He froze, his hand on his lightsaber. Heavy boots thumped down the hall outside. Cal walked to the door and pressed his ear against it. 

“No one’s here, sir.” The stormtrooper’s voice was muffled through the door. Cal unclipped his lightsaber and flattened himself against the wall next to the door.

“Alarm panel said shots fired in this block,” came the reply. “Clear every room.”

“Sir, you know that thing’s always giving false alarms. The mineral deposits in this mine scramble all the signals.”

“That’s an order,” snapped the officer. 

“This is BT-0721 in the Intel block, requesting backup. Alarm’s going off.”

“Roger that request, we’re right outside,” said a tinny voice over BT-0721’s commlink.

Sweat prickled between Cal’s shoulder blades, anticipation of a fight spooling up in his stomach. This wasn’t going to plan at all. The door next to Cal slid open. He held still, hoping the troopers would only glance inside and move on. 

“Hey, you’re not authorized to be in here!” shouted one of the troopers. Cal turned to face him and ignited his saber, the blue blade reflected in the glossy black lenses of his helmet.

Cal attacked, swinging his saber down into the trooper’s shoulder. The guard fell back into the hallway, his breastplate cut nearly in half. The second trooper aimed his blaster at Cal and fired. Cal blocked the shot, his blade whirling as he walked backwards across the room. He was pretty sure the large window behind him was plate glass, and it would be a better escape route than a hallway full of stormtroopers.

The troopers followed him, laying down heavy fire. Cal deflected a shot into one trooper and he fell, but he knew more were coming. He reached out and pushed the other trooper backwards, slamming him against the wall with the Force. He lay stunned, groaning. Cal heard shouting outside and boots in the hallway, and he knew he only had a few moments to get away. He flung out his hand and shattered the window with the Force. He vaulted over the sill, broken glass shredding his pants and cutting into his shins as he climbed out. 

He stumbled into the road as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Dread filled him when he saw an entire squad of scout troopers jogging down the road. He snatched the commlink from his belt and ducked behind a building.

“Cere? Cere where are you?”

“We’re in the mountains, trying to locate your signal.”

“That’s good, great. I could really use some backup, or an extraction, or--” A rain of blaster-fire swept down the road. A bolt clipped the wall next to his ear, making him jump. Cal had to cut the call short. He snapped up his blade in defense and was satisfied when several of his deflected bolts dropped troopers. He ran into the road, not wanting to be trapped against a building. A wave of troopers ran at him, and Cal stood to meet them.


	7. Chapter 7

Cere scanned her screen, looking for the tiny blip of Cal’s commlink. The heavy forest and mineral deposits in the mountains distorted the signals. Greez flew low, treetops snapping and raking along the _Mantis’_ belly.

“I can’t keep this up, Cere, the _Mantis_ really isn’t built for this,” Greez said. 

“I can’t find him,” she said. Beside her, Merrin scanned over the same maps, her mouth set in a tight line. Cere dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, which ached from strain. She looked down through the _Mantis’_ transparent deck, staring numbly at the blurry trees below. The _Mantis’_ searchlights created strange shadows on the land. Jaella Ven had said her coordinates were accurate. Cere hoped that this wasn’t some elaborate distraction to lead them farther away from Cal. 

“Cere,” Merrin said softly. There was a question in her voice, and Cere knew what she was asking. It seemed impossible to find something as small as a person in such dense forest, but Cere knew she had to try. She turned off her screen and sat back in her chair. She closed her eyes, and visualized the wall she kept between herself and the Force.

She took the wall down and let the Force break over her, its power nearly overwhelming. She felt its light and its shadows too, lurking if she delved in too deeply. She found her focus and reached out, looking for Cal. 

She was stunned when she sensed his familiar bright resonance in the Force. 

“I found him,” she said, opening her eyes. She got out of her chair and stood next to Greez. She tapped her finger on his screen. “Here.” She set the coordinates for him.

“There’s nothing there,” Greez said, squinting at his screen. “Just a pit.”

“That’s the mine,” Cere said. “He’s there. Trust me.”

Greez grinned at her. “I always do.”

Cal ducked behind a pile of crates, breathing hard. His right arm ached with fatigue, and his left arm was nearly useless. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. He shoved his sweaty hair out of his eyes and looked up at the clear night sky. The stars were cold, bright, and completely indifferent to his situation. Cal wondered if his friends were up there somewhere, looking for him.

“There he is!” shouted a stormtrooper, and Cal ran. The road was rough, and he turned his ankle more than once, stumbling as he deflected blaster bolts. He didn’t know where he was going and it was hard to see. It would be easy to fall down into a ravine or break his ankle in a hole. He kept going, knowing that the mountain road was the only way out of the mine. He cut down one trooper, and another, but there were always more. 

Cal became aware of a new sound, deeper than the whine of blaster fire. It was the steady noise of starship engines, and it was a sound he knew well. The engine noise grew louder louder, and when he looked up, the stars were blotted out by a shadow the size of the _Mantis_. He realized that Greez intended to land the ship in the only flat area around: the road where he was standing. 

“Cal, do you read? We can see you.” Merrin’s voice crackled over his comm, and Cal’s heart lifted. He grabbed his commlink.

“Merrin, I see the ship, I’m coming. Can you guys lay down some cover for me? I think I’ve got the whole battalion after me,” he shouted as he ran.

“Yes, I see that too,” Merrin replied dryly. Cal grinned. 

A scout trooper with a glowing stun baton closed in on him. Cal flipped over him and landed hard on his feet behind him. He thrust his saber between the armored shoulder blades, dropping him into the dirt. Several more troopers ran toward Cal. There was no time to fight, he could feel the blast of the _Mantis’_ thrusters kicking up dirt and gravel from the road. He ran as fast as he could away from the ship. 

He saw that the _Mantis’_ ramp was open, Cere and Merrin silhouetted in the doorway. Blaster-fire and green magick flew by Cal, taking out stormtroopers and clearing him a path to the ship. He sprinted up the ramp. 

“Greez, go!” Cere shouted. Greez didn’t even wait until Cal was onboard to take off. Cal was thrown sideways as Greez opened up the engines. He wrapped his good arm around a strut and held on, nearly falling off the edge of the ramp as the _Mantis_ climbed at a steep angle.

Cere and Merrin grabbed his arms and hauled him into the cockpit. Cal collapsed to the deck, breathing hard. Merrin crouched next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. She looked him over, her mouth a tight, worried line. Cal wondered if he looked as terrible as he felt. He gave her hand a quick squeeze, and her expression lightened. 

“Grab some seat, kid, this one isn’t going to be slow and gentle,” Greez shouted as he banked the ship hard. Cal decided he was safe enough on the floor. BD-1 flung himself down from the console, shrieking. He jumped onto Cal’s knee and spat out a stream of rapid binary that Cal struggled to follow. 

“Hi, buddy. I missed you too.” He laid his hand on the droid’s head and BD-1 settled down. 

“Are you okay?” Cere asked him. Cal closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bulkhead, relieved to be home. 

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Cal didn’t relax until the _Mantis_ was safely in hyperspace, heading to Bogano. He sank into the sofa, completely exhausted. He thought if he lay down for just a moment, he could rest while he waited for Greez to finish making dinner. He stretched out on the sofa and closed his eyes.

He woke to someone shaking his shoulder.

“Hey Cal, wake up a minute,” Greez said. Cal blinked, feeling disoriented. He half-expected to be back in the mine. He rubbed his eyes and the _Mantis’_ familiar interior resolved around him. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

“You missed dinner,” Greez said. Cal felt a twinge of disappointment that he had slept through dinner with his friends.

“You should have woken me up,” he said. 

“You looked like you needed the rest,” Greez said. He held out a plate. The freshly cooked steak and potatoes smelled incredible. “Eat. And get your filthy boots off my sofa.” Cal couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. He sat up and took the plate. The steak was perfect, tender and delicious. 

“Thanks, Greez,” Cal said. Greez nodded in approval. 

“There’s more if you want it.” 

“Not just for the steak. Thanks for coming to get me. I know the _Mantis_ isn’t really made for low altitude reconnaissance.” 

Greez patted his arm, a fond look in his eyes. “There’s nothing she can’t do,” he said. “You can pay me back by helping me get the trees out of the landing gear. I took out half the forest looking for you.” 

Cal laughed at the image of Greez flying so low that he had treetops stuck in the ship. “Sure thing,” he agreed. He finished his dinner, feeling restored after his short nap and some food. He wanted a shower badly, and the burn on his arm needed attention.

“‘Night Greez,” he called as he headed to the ‘fresher.

Cal took the hottest shower he could stand. The heat of the water eased some of the soreness out of his back and shoulders, and he clenched his teeth when it hit the blaster burn. Black dirt rinsed off of him, and Cal felt the grit of it as he scrubbed his hair with his good hand. 

He toweled off and pulled on a worn gray t-shirt and the loose, soft pants he wore to sleep. After days in his filthy coveralls it felt good to wear something light, clean, and comfortable. Cal grabbed the _Mantis’_ medkit on the way to his quarters. BD-1 was already there, and trilled and beeped angrily when he saw Cal. Cal sighed. He knew that BD-1 would be upset with him. He dropped the medkit on his bunk, then walked over to his workbench. He picked up the little droid and held him at eye level.

“I’m sorry buddy. You know I didn’t want to leave you behind.” BD-1 looked up at him and warbled softly. “If you had stayed with me, the Empire would have gotten you, too.” Cal carried him to his bunk and sat down. BD-1 told him everything that had happened since he had been captured, and Cal smiled. “See? If you had been with me, you wouldn’t have found the tracking device on the ship, or been able to help the crew. The Empire might still be chasing us.”

BD-1 made a resigned noise, then beeped in alarm when he saw Cal’s arm. “Yeah, I need your help,” Cal said. He opened the medkit and sat it down on the floor at his feet. The kit contained a variety of painkillers and antibiotics, and Cal injected an ampoule of each into his arm above the wound. He rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt so that he could look at his arm. 

The wound was a deep, half-scabbed and blistered burn that angled up from his elbow. The skin around it was angry and pink, tender to the touch. He couldn’t tell if it was healing or infected. It was full of dirt and burnt shreds of his sleeve. He took a bottle of antiseptic and a pad of gauze from the kit. He soaked the gauze in antiseptic and dabbed at the wound. The antiseptic seared his blistered skin, and Cal sucked in a breath through his nose. The angle was awkward, and BD-1 switched on his light to help Cal see what he was doing.

“That’s making it look worse, buddy,” Cal said. BD-1 made a soft _wooo_ of concern.

“Would you like help with that?” Merrin’s voice made him jump. She stood in his doorway and he wondered how long she had been watching him struggle. She was barefoot, and wore a loose black tunic and leggings, and Cal wondered if she had been on her way to bed. 

“Um, sure,” Cal said, caught off-guard. She sat down next to him on his bunk and BD-1 moved to the floor, keeping the light on his arm. Merrin slid closer to examine his arm, her hip brushing his.

“This looks very painful.” She eyed the bloody gauze in his hand.

“It’s not so bad,” Cal said. 

“May I?” she asked, indicating the wound.

“Yeah,” Cal said, grateful for the help. He leaned back against the bulkhead. Merrin unwrapped a clean square of gauze and pinched it in a pair of tweezers. She took the bottle of antiseptic from his hand and doused the gauze. Cal clenched his teeth when she began to clean the wound. 

“You were right, that does make it look worse,” she said to Cal as she examined his arm under the light. Her touch was gentle as she dabbed away the ground-in dirt. Cal cringed when she used the tweezers to pick out the singed fibers from his sleeve. When she was finished, she doused his arm in antiseptic without warning. The fierce burn made Cal’s eyes water as he tried to breathe through the pain. She saw him flinch, and laid her hand on his forearm.

“Almost done,” she said gently. She was close enough that he could smell her hair and the faint spice of her perfume, and Cal tried to focus on that instead of how much his arm hurt. She took a clean dressing from the first aid kit and smoothed it over the burn. It brought immediate relief as the wound was sealed. BD-1 turned his light off and looked expectantly from Cal to Merrin, then back to Cal.

“You can rest, BD, thanks for the help,” Cal said. BD-1 took his place on the workbench, his lights dimming as he powered down for the night. Cal looked down at the bandage on his arm, relieved to see the clean white patch instead of the messy burn underneath.

“Thank you,” he said. Merrin looked at him, her mouth set in a tense line.

“You’re welcome. I was worried for you,” she said quietly. Cal reached down and clasped her hand. She laced her fingers between his and leaned into his shoulder, careful of his arm. He thought about what he wanted to say to her, how he had felt when he had been alone in the mine. 

“The Imperials put me in an old mine,” he said. “It was completely dark. I couldn’t see anything.”

“That sounds terrifying,” she said. 

“Yeah, I was pretty scared,” he admitted. “While I was stuck down there, I thought about Cere, and Greez, and BD-1, and you. I thought I might never see you again.”

“We could not find you.” She looked up at him. “I am so sorry.” Cal turned to face her, drawing one leg up under him.

“It’s not your fault. But when I was down there, I knew there was something I wanted to tell you, when I got back.”

Merrin looked down at their clasped hands, then met his eyes. Cal summoned all of his courage, and then thought about how she had kissed him on Lothal, and he didn’t need it. 

“I really care about you,” he said. She looked at him for a long moment, and Cal felt his stomach twist with nerves. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and her eyes crinkled at the corners.

“I care about you too,” she said. “Did you think that I did not?” 

“I… well, I wasn’t sure,” Cal said, his nerves creeping back. 

“On Dathomir, I had no one,” she said. Cal saw the sadness in her eyes. He remembered the aching loneliness he had felt when he had seen her past in the Force. He knew that loneliness well. He had carried it for so many years after the Purge.

“I heard you crying, on Dathomir,” he said. “In the past, I mean.” Merrin looked at him, and he knew she understood. “I didn’t know it was you, at first. I didn’t understand what had happened.” She cupped his cheek, running her thumb lightly over the scar in his lower lip.

“It is good to be here, with you,” she said solemnly, and kissed him. The touch of her mouth on his was light at first, and Cal leaned into her, deepening the kiss. She cupped his jaw, careful of the bruise, and slid her fingers into his hair, stroking the nape of his neck in a way that promised to melt his spine. Cal pulled back, needing to breathe. She smoothed his hair out of his eyes.

“I was afraid I would never get to tell you,” he said. Merrin laid her hand on his chest. He took her hand and tugged gently, pulling her closer and trying to correct their awkward angle on his bunk. She slung her leg over his hips so that she could sit on his lap, her chest pressed to his.

Cal kissed the corner of her mouth and the line of her jaw. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck, encouraged by her fingers in his hair. She smelled wonderful and he breathed in deeply as he scraped his teeth lightly over the tender place along her collarbone that made her shiver. Cal ran his hand up the lean line of her thigh and over her hip, under the back of her shirt, drawing his fingertips up the curve of her backbone and back down.

Merrin wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheekbone, the shell of his ear. Cal caught her mouth with his, and she kissed him deeply. He put his arm around her waist and shifted so that they could lay down. His bunk was just barely big enough to hold both of them. 

Merrin looked up at him with wide, bright eyes, her silver hair fanned across his pillow. Cal kissed her, loving how she felt under him and pressed against him at hip and chest and mouth.

She slipped her hand under his shirt, dragging her palm across his stomach and over his ribs to rest on his chest, her fingertips hot against his skin. Cal leaned into her touch. He wanted to let her touch him anywhere she desired, but he also didn’t want to rush. They had plenty of time. 

Without thinking, he shifted his weight onto his left elbow and pain flashed through his arm. He winced and Merrin pulled back, frowning.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked. Cal stretched out flat beside her on his bunk. It felt good to lie down. The painkillers he had taken hadn’t been enough to completely dull the throb in his arm.

“No,” he said. She rolled onto her side and looked at him. Cal turned over so that he faced her, their knees touching in the narrow bunk. She was flushed, her hair falling into her eyes. Cal reached out and tucked it behind her ear, even though the motion hurt his arm. Merrin caught his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist, which made him shiver.

“You should rest,” Merrin said. Cal knew she was right. He was beyond tired, but he was so happy to finally be with her that he didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t want to be alone. 

“Do you want to stay?” he asked, looking into her eyes. She smiled at him.

“I will stay. But you will rest.”

Merrin reached down and drew the blanket over them. She curled up close against Cal, her arm around his waist. Cal felt a deep calm flow over him. He kissed Merrin’s forehead, and slept.

Bogano’s sunshine blazed down on Cal and a light, fresh breeze ruffled his hair. He and Cere slowly circled each other on the landing pad, lightsabers raised. Cal lunged forward and attacked, and Cere dodged back. His saber sliced through empty air and Cere snapped her red blade up against his. Cal fought his instinct to fall back, and instead pushed hard against her blade until Cere staggered, her boots sliding in the mud. 

“Good,” she said. Cal stood back and dropped his blade and they both returned to their previous positions. 

Cere had surprised him when she agreed to practice with him. She let him set the pace, and Cal appreciated that she avoided his left side, mindful of his arm. Sparring one-handed felt awkward at first, but Cal knew that he needed the practice. Soon he slipped into the familiar flow of the fight, lost in the Force as he anticipated and countered Cere’s attacks. He could tell she still held back, unwilling to reopen her connection to the Force.

“How are you doing?” Cere asked as they sparred. Cal wasn’t sure how to answer. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about what had happened in the temple on Lothal, and everything that had happened afterwards.

“I’m okay,” he said. Cere looked skeptical. “Really,” he assured her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. What test did the temple give you, on Lothal?” she asked. 

“Spelling, mostly,” Cal said. Cere laughed, breaking the heaviness between them. Cal landed a couple of quick hits, which she skillfully parried. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said. 

“I fought you in the temple. You wanted to kill me.” Cal said. Cere took a step back and dropped her saber to her side, as though she was afraid she might inadvertently attack him now. 

“I see.” When she looked at him the shadow was back in her eyes. 

“I believed what I saw, while we were fighting. But I knew you wouldn’t betray me. That was the test. That’s how I knew you would come for me, when I was in the mine. How did you find me, in the mountains?” Cal asked her. The question had been bothering him since the night of his rescue. 

He resumed his ready stance and attacked again, working to keep his steps precise despite the slick mud. Cere parried him, their blades throwing sparks. Sweat trickled into Cal’s eyes, and he swiped his sleeve across his forehead.

“I felt you in the Force,” she said. Cal blinked, surprised, and dropped his guard completely. Cere lunged at him, saber thrust forward. Cal recovered in time and snapped his blade up to counter. “We were having trouble tracing your comm in the mountains. It was the only way to find you,” she said.

Cal felt something warm unfurl under his breastbone as he and Cere traded blows. He knew Cere struggled with her decision to cut herself off from the Force. She had risked the call of the dark side to find him, just as she had risked herself to save him on Nur.

“Do you think you’ll open yourself back up to the Force?” he asked when they took a break to catch their breaths.

“I don’t know. It feels like cutting off a part of myself, but the call of the dark side is always there,” she said. 

“You didn’t give in to it,” Cal said. “You’re stronger than its call.” 

“I thought the same… before Trilla.” Cere advanced on him, pushing him back nearly to the edge of the landing pad as their sabers threw sparks. 

Cere parried each strike so smoothly that Cal couldn’t believe she had barely practiced in years. He swung his saber over his head in a hard downward cut, and Cere waited until the last moment to parry, sending him stumbling backwards with the force of the strike. His left arm twinged as he threw it out for balance, and BD-1 made an alarmed noise from his shoulder when Cal nearly fell. He used the Force to steady himself and regained his feet. He dropped his saber to his side and met Cere’s eyes. 

“You taught me that the past is always part of us, but our strength is in how we carry it. I’ve lost track of how many times you saved my life. That’s worth something too,” he said. 

Cere switched off her lightsaber, and the red blade extinguished itself with a snap. “I won’t leave a member of my crew behind,” she said.

“Yeah,” Cal said. “I know.” 

He switched off his saber and looked over at the _Mantis_. Greez and Merrin were examining a large branch wedged into one of her landing struts. More greenery stuck out at odd angles from the ship, and Cal realized Greez hadn’t been exaggerating about how low he had flown. Cal couldn’t hear the conversation, but Greez had all four hands flung out in exasperation. 

“Have you told Merrin how you feel about her?” Cere asked. Cal felt heat flood his cheeks and wondered if he’d been that obvious.

“Yeah. We talked,” he said. Cere folded her arms across her chest and gave him a knowing look. Cal’s face burned hotter. He expected a warning about forming attachments, or about how it was unwise to enter relationships with members of one’s crew.

“Good,” Cere said simply, her voice warm and genuine. 

“We should probably go help,” Cal said, waving vaguely at the ship, desperate to change the subject. He headed for the _Mantis_ and Cere followed him.

“About time you two decided to pitch in,” Greez said when he saw them approach. BD-1 beeped indignantly at being left out. Greez pointed his right two index fingers at the droid. “Yeah, I’ve got work for you, too,” he said. Beside Cal, Merrin murmured something under her breath, and the tangle of branches wedged into the _Mantis’_ landing strut disappeared in a swirl of magick.

“You seemed to have things under control,” Cere said. Greez scoffed, and pointed at a series of long, dirty scratches in the _Mantis’_ hull. 

“Look at this,” he fussed. “This is gonna take hours to buff out.”

“It is good that you have four hands then,” Merrin said, exchanging a look with Cal. She reached out and took his hand. Greez turned around and his gaze landed on their clasped hands.

“Oh what, are we holding hands now, what is this?” Greez said.

“We are holding hands now,” Merrin stated, in a tone that invited no argument. Greez looked from Merrin to Cal, then to Cere, who only smirked at him. BD-1 whistled cheerfully from Cal’s shoulder. A broad grin slowly spread over Greez’s face.

“Oh, well. Well that’s really nice,” he said finally. “But we’ve got a lot of work to do before we’re ready to take off, so stand around and hold hands some other time.” Beside him, Cal felt Merrin’s stifled laugh. He squeezed her hand and let it go.

“Do we have another job lined up?” Cal asked Cere.

“I’ve been in touch with a few contacts,” Cere said. “There’s work, when we’re ready for it. For now I think we could all use a little rest.”

Cal agreed. After his time as the Empire’s prisoner, it was good to be out in the sunshine on an unspoiled planet. Cal felt the grinding fear and anxiety that he had carried for the past few days slowly fading. His crew was safe and he was home, together with his friends.


End file.
